


Welcome Home, Mickey

by Erica_likes_to_write



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Bipolar Ian, Jealous Ian, Jealous Mickey, Pining, Prostitution, Protective Mickey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 14:25:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2312798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erica_likes_to_write/pseuds/Erica_likes_to_write
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey skips town after the events in 3.6. He returns almost a year later to find that everything has changed, especially Ian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fight or Flight

Mickey walked through the old neighborhood, his feet crunching on fallen leaves beneath him. It was autumn and that was shocking to him because he couldn't quite believe he'd been gone for so long. He hadn't meant to stay away for so long. But then again, he hadn't really ever had any kind of plan other than to get the hell away from his father.

Having his father catch him being fucked by another guy would have been traumatizing enough, especially coupled with the savage beating he endured directly after. But the truth was that it was being raped in front of his . . . Ian, that had sent Mickey over the edge, and running.

But now, almost a year later, he was back. He had been feeling antsy, itching to go home for awhile. So when Iggy had sent word that Terry was back in prison, Mickey threw his shit in a duffel bag and boarded the first bus back to Chicago.

Mickey climbed the front steps of his childhood home and let himself in with the key he still had. He entered a quiet living room, the only sound the tv on a low volume. His sister lay curled sleepily on the couch. She looked up at him. "Hey." She said.

Mandy sat up and Mickey sat down beside her. Mickey's body sank into the cushions of the ancient couch and the movement felt so familiar that Mickey shivered.

Mandy was looking at him intensely. "You okay?"

Mickey nodded. "I'm good. You? Still seeing that piece of shit? Lip or whatever?"

Mandy rolled her eyes but shook her head. "Nah, he's long gone. He's in college. So why'd you come back? I was kind of jealous that you got out." She grinned at him hesitantly and he could see the pain. He had abandoned her.

Mickey shrugged. "I don't know. My fuckin life is here, right?"

Mandy shrugged. "I guess."

There was an awkward silence and then, looking anywhere but in his sister's eyes, Mickey asked the question he'd been dying to ask since he walked in the door. "How's Gallagher?"

"I just told you. He's in college."

"Not fucking Lip. The other one. The redhead."

Mandy looked at him, confusion all over her face. "Ian?" Mickey nodded and Mandy shrugged. "He's alright, I guess. Since when do you care about Ian?"

"I used to work with the guy, didn't I? Jesus Mandy, can't I ask a fucking question?" Mandy looked down, clearly hurt and Mickey was instantly consumed with guilt. He lit a cigarette. He had forgotten how hard this was, keeping what was between him and Ian a secret.

But suddenly Mandy was grinning wickedly as she grabbed the cigarette from his hands. "I'm fucking with you, Mick. I know about you and Ian."

Mickey turned to her, stunned. "You do?"

"Yeah, he told me after you left. Guess he didn't feel like he owed you anything anymore."

Mickey looked around the room nervously, hating himself as he did it. "Who else knows?"

Mandy shrugged. "I'm pretty sure Lip knows but I don't think Ian told anyone else."

Mickey nodded. "So how is he?"

Mandy shrugged. "He's alright, I guess. You should go find him. See for yourself."

Mickey looked at his watch. "It's noon. Isn't he in school? Now that I think about it, isn't that where you should be too?"

"Ian and I both dropped out a couple months after you left town."

Mickey's eyebrows raised. "Ian? No way."

"Oh yeah, he's done with school, ROTC, all that shit."

"No fucking way."

Mandy stood. "I'm gonna go shower. I have work in an hour."

Mickey nodded as he lit another cigarette. Mandy walked past him and entered her room. A moment later, he could hear a man's deep voice from behind the closed door. So Mandy had someone new. Mickey bit his lip. He was quickly realizing that a lot had changed since he'd been gone.

 

Mickey went to The Alibi for a drink. It was mid-afternoon and the place was empty. He sipped on his beer and wondered about Ian. The last time he had seen the guy he had been beaten, a line of blood running down his chest. And he had been trying not to cry as the Russian whore had fucked Mickey on the couch. Afterwards, his father threw Ian out and Mickey went to his room where he punched a hole in the wall. The next morning, he left.

The first few weeks he was away, Gallagher called and texted him constantly. He left desperate sounding messages, begging Mickey to call him back. As the weeks went on, Ian's voice transitioned from desperate to hopeless. And then finally, after a full six weeks of leaving daily voicemails, Ian gave up.

It hadn't been difficult for Mickey to ignore Ian's calls. In the months immediately following the beating, Mickey felt numb. It was like his body had gone into flight or fight mode and he had chosen flight. With the threat of death so close, all Mickey could think about was survival.

But after a few months, after Mickey had stopped feeling scared every minute, he had begun to think about Ian again.

Mickey's aunt had hooked him up with a job stocking shelves at a grocery store. Mickey liked it because he was left alone and the work was mindless and easy. The pay sucked but he was giving most of it to his aunt anyway. But as thoughts of Ian began creeping back into his mind, Mickey found that having such a mindless job could be a bad thing in that it allowed him hours every day to wonder about and miss the redhead.

Mickey had been pretty confident that Ian was okay because he was in touch with his siblings and he figured that Mandy would probably mention it if their father did anything to hurt her best friend. During their awkward, stilted weekly phone calls, Mickey wanted so badly to ask about Ian but he couldn't risk it.

So for hours every day, as he put boxes and jars onto shelves, he tried to think of anything other than Ian. Some days he was more successful than others.

 

"You're back."

Mickey had been so consumed by his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Lip Gallagher enter the bar and sit down beside him. "Fuckin looks like it. Shouldn't you be in college?"

"I come home a lot. Help Fiona out with the little ones." Lip watched Mickey down the remainder of his beverage with a curious expression. "So where you been all this time?"

Mickey shrugged. "None of your fucking business."

Lip rolled his eyes. "Charming as ever."

Mickey looked around before leaning closer to Lip, his voice low. "How's your brother?"

Lip took a moment to consider. "You should go find him. See for yourself."

Why did everyone keep saying that? "He at home?"

"I don't know where he is but he'll probably be at work later."

Mickey tried to act casual. "Was planning to swing by the Kash N Grab anyway. Out of smokes."

"He doesn't work there anymore."

Mickey looked at Lip. He had a strange expression on his face ever since Mickey had asked about Ian. Mandy had worn a similar one. Mickey was starting to feel anxious. "You gonna tell me where he works or not?"

"He works at The Fairy Tale."

"What the fuck is that?"

Lip stood, throwing a few bills down on the bar before pulling a thin jacket over his shoulders. He looked Mickey directly in the eyes and Mickey could see the resentment in his face when he answered. "It's a gay club in boys town." And then Lip was gone, leaving Mickey alone at the bar, his mouth hanging open.

 

Mickey stood outside The Fairy Tale and chewed on his lip as he was consumed by anxiety. There were a few guys loitering near the extrance and Mickey was disconcerted by their dress, all so obviously gay. He could hear the music thumping from inside. Mickey's feet felt like they were cemented to the sidewalk. As much as he wanted to see Ian, he could not go inside. Although he would never have admitted it, he was afraid. Mickey sat down on the curb and lit a cigarette. He would just have to wait there until Ian came out.

 

The club closed at two and there was an outpouring of men. They were loud and rambunctious and most seemed high or drunk or both. Mickey stood to the side and waited. Eventually, he saw him.

Ian was alone. He wore jeans, a tank top and an unzipped hoodie. He had a bag slung over his shoulder. When Mickey had last seen him, his hair had been buzzed short but now it was longer and slicked back. He was skinnier than Mickey remembered. And could it possibly be that Ian was wearing eyeliner? "Gallagher?"

Ian turned and the two made eye contact. Ian's eyes widened. "Mickey? What are you doing here?"

Mickey was incredulous. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Working."

"As what? A fucking stripper?"

"Yes." 

Mickey had meant his words to be sarcastic but Ian was dead serious. Mickey's mind was spinning as he got closer to Ian. "Are you wearing fucking makeup?"

Ian pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. He took a shaky drag and let it out slowly. "Yeah, I'm a fucking stripper and I'm wearing eye makeup. And you don't get to say shit about it."

Mickey backed up a little. He could see that Ian's hands were shaking slightly. He put his hands up in surrender. "Okay. You're right. It's just . . . It's just surprising, that's all. And I'm . . . I mean, are you okay?"

Ian looked away. "What, you suddenly care?" All of Mickey's feelings toward the redhead were rushing back to him. Ian somehow looked much more fragile than he remembered. It was chilly outside and Ian shivered in his thin sweatshirt. Leaving the cigarette dangling from his lips, he zipped up the hoodie. "Where were you anyway?"

"Went to stay with my mom's sister. I couldn't live at that house anymore. Not after what went down."

Ian nodded, his expression softening slightly. "I figured. You could have called me back. Texted. Something."

"I know. I'm sorry." Mickey didn't know if he had ever said those words before.

"You know, a little part of me was worried that", Ian hesitated, anguish on his face.

"That what?"

"That Terry had killed you and hid your body somewhere." Ian had tears in his eyes and he looked away.

"I'm sorry, man. I . . ."

Ian cut him off, wiping his eyes quickly with the back of his hand. "I gotta go. It's late."

"I'll walk you home. We can catch up or some shit."

Ian shook his head. "Don't live on the south side anymore. I'm in Lincoln Park now."

"Lincoln Park? What the fuck are you doing there?"

"Been staying with my boyfriend."

The words hung in the air between them. Mickey was shocked and that made him angry - at Mandy for not warning him, at himself for not realizing that a guy like Ian wouldn't just sit around waiting for him all this time, at his dad for fucking everything up just when he and Ian were starting to get somewhere. But "Oh" was all he managed to say.

Ian pulled the cigarette from between his lips and offered it to Mickey. "Here you want this? I'm not even supposed to be smoking anymore. Boyfriend hates the smell. I know I have a mint in here somewhere." Mickey took the cigarette and watched as Ian dug through his bag. Finally, he pulled a half empty roll of mints out of his bag and popped one in his mouth before looking back at Mickey.

"Look, I really gotta go. It was good seeing you. I mean, I'm glad you're okay and everything."

Mickey nodded. "Yeah, you too, man." And then he watched as the redhead walked away.


	2. Same Old Mickey

Mickey woke up in a bad fucking mood. He was terribly hungover (after seeing Ian outside the club, he had returned to The Alibi and gotten completely shit faced) and totally exhausted. Mickey had spent most of the night staring at the ceiling.

But it was noon and he had shit to do. He dragged himself out of bed and into the shower. He turned the water up to nearly scalding and stood under the shower head. As the water streamed down his face, the same question kept running through his mind: how had things changed so much? Somehow, in a little less than a year, his ROTC loving teenage fuck buddy had morphed into an eyeliner wearing stripper living with some older guy across town. Mickey needed answers but first, he needed to get a job.

After his shower, Mickey threw on a tee shirt and jeans and headed to the kitchen. Mandy and Iggy were watching tv in the living room. "Yo, we got any aspirin? My head's fucking killing me."

Iggy looked over at him from the couch. "Cabinet over the sink."

"Thanks, man." Mickey grabbed three aspirin and washed them down with orange juice straight from the carton before joining his siblings on the couch.

Iggy eyed him with a grin. "Rough night?"

Mickey nodded then grimaced from the movement. "I'm fine. I need a fucking job, man. Can you help me out?"

Iggy shook his head. "Wish I could but I'm in the same boat. Spent the past six months doing runs for Dad but now that shit's done."

Mandy looked up, annoyed. "You shitheads better find something fast because my tips from the diner aren't gonna float this place."

Mickey put a hand to his throbbing forehead. "What about Collin and Jamie?"

Iggy waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Fucked off to somewhere. It's just us now, dude."

Mickey rubbed his eyes, willing the pain to go away. "I'll find something." A few minutes later, Iggy went to his room and Mickey turned to Mandy. "Hey, by the way, thanks for the heads up about Gallagher, asshole."

Mandy laughed.

"Really? You think it's funny? I thought you two were best friends or some shit?"

"We are."

"And you're not worried about him?"

Mandy thought for a moment before shrugging. "It's a job. He likes it and he makes good money."

Mickey rolled his eyes. "What about the boyfriend?"

"What about him?"

"Where did he come from? How fucking old is he?"

Mandy stood. "I'm not doing this, Mick. If you wanna know shit about Ian, you need to ask Ian."

"What about you? Who was that guy in your room yesterday?"

"That was Kenyatta."

"He your boyfriend?"

"I guess."

"He contributing to the rent?"

"He has no job, douchebag." Mandy stood. "My shift is starting. Stop worrying about everyone else's love life and get a fucking job."

 

Ian burst through the door and tackled Brian. "Just did eight miles. Let's go fuck in the shower."

The older man pushed him away in annoyance. "Jesus, Ian. What if I'd been on a work call?"

Ian grabbed at the other man again. "Then your co-workers would be fucking jealous?"

Brian let Ian kiss him and grinned when the redhead pulled away. "Okay, just be mindful, alright? Come here, I made you lunch."

Ian looked down at the neatly set table and sighed. "Grilled chicken over salad again. Yah." His sarcastic tone was clear.

Brian sat down. "You're free to make whatever you want but you'd probably have to get up before noon."

Ian sat across the table from Brian feeling restless. He had little appetite. He was always eating healthy shit lately because that was how Brian ate. Ian glanced at the other man who was mindlessly eating his salad while balancing a notebook computer on his crossed knee. He was completely engrossed in whatever was on the screen. He was an engineer and sometimes worked from home, which was an over priced one bedroom apartment, all stainless steel and exposed brick and big windows. 

Finally, Brian looked up at him, face illuminated from the light of the screen. "What's up?"

"It's Friday. You wanna do something later?"

"Thought you were working."

"I mean after."

"I can't keep up with you, man. It's been a long week - probably going to just crash after work."

Ian nodded and looked at the man across from him, brow furrowed in concentration. He had told Mickey that he had a boyfriend but that wasn't exactly true. He had been living with Brian for a few months but they had never actually had a conversation defining exactly what was going on between the two of them. Brian was good to him, let him stay there, fed him, took him out to dinner and to movies and never really asked for anything in return except to respect Brian's rules, which mostly involved keeping the apartment neat and staying quiet when Brian was working. 

As Ian brought the fork to his mouth, he caught the other man watching him.

"Doesn't it hurt your hand, holding your fork that way?"

Ian looked down at his hand. "What way?"

"You hold your fork like a pencil. Looks painful." Brian was smirking at him.

Ian felt his face redden. He hadn't realized that he didn't hold his fork correctly. 

Brian must have noticed the look on Ian's face. "I'm not trying to criticize. Just looks uncomfortable."

Ian sighed, what little appetite he had previously had now completely gone. He put both utensils down and brought his plate to the sink. "I'm gonna shower. Gotta run some errands before work." And then he made sure to rinse his plate and utensils thoroughly before putting them in the dishwasher, just like Brian liked.

 

Mickey made his way to the bar and quickly ordered a beer. He would definitely need alcohol to cope with the disco balls and half naked men around him. The music was loud and Mickey's head still felt tender from the raging hangover he'd experienced that morning. 

He asked himself what the hell he was even doing there. But as he scanned the crowd and his eyes quickly found Ian, he was no longer able to even pretend not to know the answer to that question.

Ian was wearing the tiniest shorts Mickey had ever seen and it was a stark contrast to the baggy camouflage he was used to seeing the redhead in. He was on the lap of some old queen and Mickey couldn't see either of their faces. But he could see the guy's hands on Ian's ass. A moment later, Mickey saw the guy put some kind of pill onto Ian's tongue. 

Mickey put his empty beer bottle down and stalked over to the two men. Ian was straddling the older man, writhing on top of him, while the man's hands squeezed Ian's ass. Mickey tapped Ian on the shoulder. "Time's up, lovebirds. Get up."

Ian looked up at him, a shocked expression on his face but he didn't move. "Mick? What are you doing here?"

"I said get the fuck up." Mickey grabbed Ian by the arm and pulled him off the other man's lap.

The other guy, who in Mickey's opinion was old and fat and just totally gross, walked away with an annoyed expression.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Ian ran a hand through his hair. "What does it look like? I'm working."

Mickey grabbed his chin and looked in his eyes. "You're fucking high."

Ian looked away.

"What does your fucking boyfriend think of your job?"

Ian laughed. "How do you think I met him?"

"No fucking way."

"Yeah. He was one of my regulars. One night, he invited me back to his place and I never really left."

"How old is he?"

"Thirty-five."

"Well, he's too fucking old for you and it's fucked up that he was your customer."

Ian looked at Mickey's angry face and grinned. "What's the matter, Mick? You worried about me?"

"Fuck off."

Ian laughed.

"What?"

"This. Us. The way we are together. It's bullshit. You pretending not to care."

"Maybe I fucking don't."

Ian tilted his head, studying Mickey's face carefully. "No, you definitely do. I just don't know if you're worried about me or if you're just fucking jealous. Or maybe it's both."

Mickey's eyebrows shot up. "You're right, this is bullshit. You wanna let a bunch of old queens smack their sacks against your ass cheeks, go right ahead. I'm leaving."

Ian grabbed his arm. "You sure you're not just upset because you wish it was your sack slapping against my ass cheeks?"

Ian's face was so close to Mickey's that the older boy could practically taste the mint and tobacco and something else on the other boy's breath. Ian's lips were parted slightly and Mickey couldn't stop staring at his mouth. "Let go of my arm before I break yours."

Ian laughed bitterly, releasing his hold on Mickey's arm. "Same old Mickey."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"You gotta pretend that you hate me, right? Gotta keep up the act. Well, I'm sick of it, Mick. I'm done being someone's dirty secret." Ian gestured around him. "You may think these guys are losers but at least they know what they want."

Mickey scoffed and Ian walked away. Mickey returned to the bar and ordered a whiskey. Fucking Gallagher. What the hell was going on with him anyway? He was done? Well, Mickey was done, too. He was just going to finish his drink and then he would leave.

But Mickey's eyes were drawn to red hair. Ian was on another customer's lap and Mickey couldn't stop watching. Ian moved slowly on top of the other man, grinding his crotch into the other man's and rubbing their chests together. The client's hands were all over Ian, roaming his body. And then Ian turned over in his lap and rubbed his ass against the older man's crotch while the man's hands travelled along Ian's inner thighs. Mickey felt his hands clench into fists. And then the man's hand slid an inch to the left and cupped Ian's junk aggressively and Mickey lost it.

He was across the room just as Ian started to react, eyes popping open and looking down at where the other man held him with a shocked look on his face.

Ian was starting to try to disentangle himself from the other man's grip just as Mickey reached them. Mickey grabbed Ian by the arm and hauled him roughly off the other man and then punched the client in the jaw before turning to Ian. "Great fucking job you got here."

The redhead was rattled. He ran a shaky hand through his hair. "That's not supposed to happen. He's not allowed to touch me like that."

"Well he just fucking did. Where are the god damn bouncers anyway?" And then, a man in a suit appeared. Mickey guessed he was the manager or some shit.

He glanced from Ian to Mickey to the client who was holding his face in his hands, writhing in pain. "There a problem here, Ian?"

"I think he broke my jaw!" The client called out, tears running freely down his face.

"He touched me, Ed. Inappropriately. My friend was just protecting me.

Ed looked Mickey over suspiciously. Then, he looked over at Ian, who was obviously shaken up, then back at Mickey and then back at Ian again. "Next time, call out for me or one of the other guys if you're in trouble."

Ian nodded. But Mickey snorted. "Shouldn't they be watching? Isn't that the whole idea?"

Ed looked him up and down. "You telling me how to run my club?"

"Someone needs to."

Ian reached over and touched Mickey's arm as he spoke to his boss. "I'll call out for Roger or one of the other guys if it happens again."

Ed nodded. "I'll let this slide today but you can't have your boyfriend in here knocking out every customer who gets handsy. I'm gonna have you end your shift early tonight because you're obviously upset. But if this happens again, you're done here."

Ian nodded and Ed turned to the injured patron, kneeling beside him to look at his jaw. Ian turned to Mickey who walked off without a word.

 

Ten minutes later, Ian exited the club fully dressed. He looked at his watch and noted that it was midnight. He reached into his pocket for his phone with the intention of texting Brian when he was suddenly pushed from the side and pinned against the building. Startled, he looked up to see blue eyes boring into his own.

Mickey ran his tongue over his lips. "You were wrong in there."

Still pinned to the brick wall, Ian raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah?"

Mickey nodded. "I know what I want."

Ian just looked at him, eyes moving from his eyes to his lips and back. "Prove it."

Mickey released Ian's arms and moved his hand to the other boy's face. Placing his palm gently on Ian's cheek, he guided their mouths together. After a moment, Ian's lips parted and Mickey's tongue found Ian's. Mickey's other hand travelled down Ian's body until it was rubbing the redhead's dick through his jeans and Ian let out a moan. The sound inspired Mickey to get more aggressive and he shoved his hand down Ian's pants, grabbing his cock and stroking it. "Missed ya." He whispered into Ian's mouth.

Ian let out another moan but didn't answer. Mickey took a step back, removing his hand from the other boy's pants and Ian opened his eyes. His face was flushed and his lips swollen. He was looking skeptically at Mickey, as if he didn't know if he could trust him. "Come back to my place."

Ian's eyes widened. "Your dad . . . ."

Mickey shook his head. "In jail. It's just Iggy and Mandy." Mickey touched his arm. "It's safe."

Ian looked down at where Mickey was touching him and then back at Mickey's face. "Okay."

 

The living room was dark when they entered the house. Mickey was relieved to find that his siblings were either out or sleeping. He would rather deal with their reactions the next day. Especially Iggy, who had no idea that Mickey was into dudes.

Mickey held Ian by the arm and pulled him through the living room and into his bedroom. He still couldn't get himself to hold Ian's hand. Ian switched on the light and looked around. "Wow. Feels weird to be here again. Seems like so long ago that . . . that I slept over."

Mickey looked at the younger boy. He appeared to be coming down from his high and was looking and sounding more like himself. Mickey didn't say anything and Ian continued.

"That day was so terrible, Mick. I mean, mostly for you but for me too. I try not to think about it but sometimes . . ."

Mickey cut him off by pressing his lips against Ian's. He hadn't really given much thought to Ian's trauma, had been too busy processing his own. And connections starting forming in his mind between that horrible day and the changes in Ian. But then Mickey pushed those thoughts from his mind because he had Ian in his room and the last thing he wanted to think about was that day.

Mickey gently pushed Ian onto the bed and climbed on top of him. He leaned down and kissed him deeply on the mouth. Then, breaking the kiss, he looked down at the other boy. "You okay with this?" Because Ian was under the influence, after all, and Mickey didn't want to take advantage of him. And maybe also because Mickey was terribly insecure when it came to Ian and to his own sexuality.

Ian nodded at him, wide eyed and breathing hard. "Yeah, I want this too."

Mickey grinned as he began removing his clothes.

 

Mickey woke up alone, the animated voices of his sister and Ian drifting from the kitchen. He was disappointed because the night before with Ian had been amazing and Mickey wanted him again before he left.

They had only fucked once the night before and it had ended way too quickly for Mickey. He was like a heroin addict that had relapsed after almost a year of sobriety and Mickey was almost beside himself with desire. But after fucking Mickey hard, Ian had collapsed, snuggled against Mickey's side and it was obvious that Ian was done for the night.

Mickey made his way into the kitchen and found his sister seated at the table with Ian having coffee. Mickey still felt groggy as he reached for a mug. "How are you assholes so cheerful this early? What fucking time is it anyway?"

Mandy rolled her eyes as Mickey sat down. Ian looked at his watch. "Oh, man, it's late. Almost ten."

Just then, Iggy stumbled out of his bedroom appearing hungover. He noticed Ian right away. "Haven't seen you in a while."

The implication was that Ian was back to fooling around with Mandy. Mickey looked away, clearly having no intention of correcting him. Mickey could see the irritated expression on Ian's face out of the corner of his eye and, in his mind, he heard the redhead's words from the night before: same old Mickey.

Just then, they heard a car pull up and all three glanced out the window. Ian nearly spit the coffee from his mouth. "Oh shit! That's Brian!"

Mickey watched as the tall slender man walked up the front steps. He knocked on the front door as Ian frantically put on his shoes. Iggy eyed him curiously. "Who the fuck is Brian?"

Ian looked like a deer in headlights. He glanced at Mickey apologetically. But before either of them could say anything, Iggy had answered the door and Brian stood in their living room. His eyes quickly located Ian. "What the hell, Ian? I've been texting you since last night."

"Yeah, sorry. I had my phone on vibrate and I guess I didn't hear it. How'd you find me?"

Brian shrugged. "I tracked your phone." And then his eyes scanned the room, the slightest look of disapproval on his face. "Is this your family's house?"

Ian, now tying his shoes, gestured to Mandy. "No, this is Mandy's house. You remember my friend Mandy? From high school? We hung out last night after work and then I was exhausted so I just crashed here. These are her brothers, Iggy and Mickey."

Mickey was surprised by how easily the lies were rolling off of Ian. He was equally impressed and disturbed by it.

"Nice to see you again." Mandy said and Mickey gave him a nod. Iggy was eyeing Ian and Brian with a confused expression.

Brian gave a curt nod, barely acknowledging any of them before looking at his watch. Ian stood. "Hey, you wanna meet my family? Our house is just a couple blocks from here."

Brian shook his head. "No time. We're meeting my friends for brunch downtown at 11. Remember? I told you last week."

Ian looked disappointed but recovered quickly. "Okay. Oh wait - I think I forgot my sweatshirt in Mandy's room." Ian headed toward Mickey's bedroom as Brian rolled his eyes impatiently. Ian grabbed his hoodie from where it lay bunched on the floor. When he turned around, he was startled to find Mickey in front of him. Ian's eyes shifted nervously in the direction of the living room as Mickey reached out for Ian's arm. "Mick, he's right there."

"I wanna see you again."

Ian bit his lip, all the cockiness he possessed the night before somehow gone. Mickey wondered if it had all been the drugs. "I don't know. Maybe. I'll think about it."

Mickey leaned in and kissed him. Kissing Ian was still a novelty. Mickey loved the feel of those soft lips against his own. Ian allowed the kiss but when Mickey wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him closer, Ian put a hand on Mickey's chest and pushed him away. "I gotta go."

Mickey followed Ian back into the living room where Brian was looking at his phone, Mandy and Iggy standing around ackwardly. When he noticed Ian, Brian put his phone away and grabbed Ian by the arm. "Come on, get a move on, we're late."

As he was being dragged out, Ian turned back and gave the three siblings a quick smile and wave goodbye. Mickey watched through the window as Brian led Ian to his car and something about the older man's grip on Ian didn't sit right with Mickey. But then Iggy's voice brought Mickey out of his thoughts.

"What the fuck was that? Who was that asshole?"

"That was Ian's boyfriend."

"Boyfriend? Gallagher's gay?"

"Yup, totally gay." Mandy said, shooting Mickey a smirk before she went to her room to wake her sleeping boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I based the character of Brian on the guy that hosted the loft party in 4.08 because he seemed interested in Ian.  
> Anyway, I hope you're enjoying the story. If you have time, let me know what you think.


	3. Regrets

It was temporary. Just until he found something better. They needed money and it wasn't going to appear out of thin air. On the plus side, the diner wasn't anywhere near the south side so at least he didn't have to worry about running into anyone he knew. These were the thoughts running through Mickey's mind as he bussed tables and washed dishes in scalding water, sweat running in beads down his face. Being a busboy was demeaning but it would be more demeaning to be living on the street, which was exactly what was going to happen if Mickey, Mandy and Iggy couldn't scrape together the money for the mortgage every month.

Mickey stepped back from the sink, swiping the back of his hand across his soaked forehead. He was exhausted. All he wanted to do was take a shower and go to sleep. But a glance at the clock on the wall told him that he still had two hours left in his shift. He pulled his apron off with a sigh. Fuck it, it was time for his smoke break.

Mickey stepped outside and sat on the back steps. It was chilly out and he shivered as he lit his cigarette. He could barely believe where he was. As he puffed away, he realized how drastically he had changed over the past year. It was scary how he could be so stunned by his own thoughts. Like the night before, while on the Internet, he shockingly caught himself researching a GED instead of trolling for porn as he usually did.

It wasn't that he suddenly wanted to work for minimum wage at a shitty diner or study for some stupid test that he'd probably fail. It was that, since returning home, Mickey felt an overwhelming desire to take care of things. Of people. Himself, his brother and sister, and maybe a certain redhead who hadn't even spoken to him in weeks.

He was so exhausted and lost in his thoughts that he barely noticed his phone vibrating in his pocket. He answered without bothering to check the caller ID. "Yeah?"

"I need to talk to you."

"Ian?" But he didn't really need to ask. He would know that voice anywhere.

"Can you meet me? It's important."

"I'm at work. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. What time do you get off?"

"Seven."

"I'm at my family's house. Can you come by after?"

"Yeah, alright. You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Just need to fill you in on some shit that's been going on since you've been away."

 

Mickey showed up at the Gallagher house around half past seven. Ian answered the door in loose jeans and a hoodie. He barely acknowledged Mickey before turning around and returning to a huge heap of clothing on the couch. Beside the heap, Ian's little brother, Liam, sat watching cartoons. Mickey stood awkwardly for a moment watching Ian.

"You move back in?"

"Nah, I come by a few times a week to help out. Watch Liam, help around the house. You know."

Mickey nodded. In some ways, Ian seemed so much like his former self that it gave Mickey the chills. But there was something about Ian's hurried movements and speech that gave Mickey pause. What was up with this kid? "I was surprised to hear from you. You haven't been returning my calls since the night we . . . ." Mickey's voice trailed off awkwardly. Man, was he feeling nervous.

Ian continued his task of frantically folding laundry. Mickey couldn't help but check out Ian's ass every time he bent over to grab more laundry off the pile. "Yeah, I've been really busy. Been taking on a lot of extra shifts. My family really needs the money right now. And with Lip off at college, Fiona needs a lot of help around the house."

"You look tired."

Ian paused in his task and looked up at Mickey. He looked surprised, like it had never before occurred to him that he might be tired. "Yeah, I guess I am pretty tired. What about you? You said you were at work. Where?"

Mickey felt his cheeks redden. He rubbed at the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I'm a fucking busboy. And don't say shit about it. You're not the only one with a family depending on you."

Ian looked shocked and then, ever so slowly, the corners of his mouth lifted and Mickey felt warm all over at the sight of Ian smiling at him. "Busboy? Mickey Milkovich washing dishes? No fucking way!" And then Ian let out one of his big, full bellied laughs.

"What did I just say?" Mickey tried to look angry but felt his own lips curling into a smile. "Anyway, at least I'm fully dressed at my job."

"I bet! I bet you've got a hairnet and everything!"

"Fuck off. I don't wear a hairnet. Apron maybe."

"I bet you look hot in your uniform."

And then suddenly Mickey was against him, hands gripping his narrow hips, crowding him into the wall. "Interested? Because I could put it on for you right now." Mickey looked into the other boy's eyes and could swear he saw a flicker of longing but then Ian had his hands flat against Mickey's chest, pushing him away. 

"That's not what I . . . I need to talk to you about Mandy."

Mickey felt his entire body deflate with disappointment. He took a step back, Ian's hands sliding off his chest. "Mandy? What about her?"

"This Kenyatta. Have you met him?"

Mickey sighed. He didn't want to talk about his sister. He wanted to be kissing Ian. "A couple times in passing. You got a beer or anything?"

"In the kitchen."

Mickey grabbed himself a beer and then returned to the living room to find that Ian hadn't moved. He took a long sip and waited for Ian to talk.

"I don't like how he treats Mandy. Something needs to be done about it."

"Mandy can take care of herself." Ian looked skeptical. "I'm serious, Ian. She's a tough girl. Could probably kick your ass if she wanted to."

"He's beating her up."

Mickey's eyebrows raised. "How do you know?"

Ian shrugged. "She covers it up with makeup but I can tell. Someone needs to put this guy in his place. If you won't do it, I will."

"Alright, tough guy. Just chill out a little, okay?" Mickey could tell that Ian was serious. The redhead looked tense and a little desperate and it was making Mickey anxious to think of Ian confronting Kenyatta. "You did notice that he's like double your size, right?"

"I love Mandy."

Mickey felt his entire body jolt as he was consumed by a mix of jealousy and longing. But he also felt relief because this was the Ian he knew. He was still there, stubborn and emotional and wearing his fucking heart on his sleeve. Maybe he hadn't changed as much as Mickey feared. Mickey finished the beer in one long gulp. "Alright. I'll take care of it."

"When?"

"Tonight. Just . . . stay out of it. I don't want you doing anything stupid."

"No, I'll come too. Not working tonight."

Mickey didn't like the idea of Ian confronting Kenyatta. The guy was a fucking giant. But, at the same time, it would allow Mickey more time with Ian. "Yeah, okay."

"I gotta wait for Fiona to come home to watch Liam. I'll come over after. Probably around 9."

Mickey nodded and couldn't help but notice the way his stomach flipped at the thought of Ian in his house that night.

 

Ian showed up at 9:30 with Liam in his arms. "Fiona got roped into working a double." He explained before shouldering past Mickey.

"You really wanna do this in front of him?"

Ian shrugged. "Desperate times, right?"

"I guess. You can put him down here." Mickey gestured towards the couch. "We don't got any cartoons or nothing. Haven't had kids in this house since Mandy and I were little."

Ian put the preschooler down on the couch and handed him his phone. "Here, buddy." Then, turned to Mickey, "He'll be fine. I've got lots of games on there. Trust me, he won't hear a thing. Kid's oblivious to everything around him when he's got his nose in that thing."

Mickey nodded. "You want a beer or anything?"

Ian looked surprised and then his face seemed to soften some. "Sure. Okay."

Mickey grabbed two beers and popped both caps before handing one to Ian. They both took a sip but Ian's was longer and Mickey studied him. After chugging what looked to be about half the bottle in one gulp, Ian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked back at Mickey curiously. "What?"

"Nothing, man. You just seem wound really tight is all. You sure you're okay?"

"Dude, you really gotta stop asking me that." Ian drained his bottle with another long gulp. "I gotta get Liam home at a decent time. Let's get this over with."

Mickey gestured toward the bedrooms. "Come on." The two walked through the living room, past Liam, to the bedrooms. They stopped in front of Mandy's closed door. Mickey suddenly felt extremely awkward about the whole situation and was regretting getting involved when the door swung open.

Mandy was standing before them and Mickey could see Kenyatta behind her, lounging on her bed. Both wore suspicious expressions. Mandy appeared put out. "What?"

Mickey suddenly felt his mind go blank. He literally had no idea what to say. Why the hell had he allowed himself to get roped into this? He hadn't noticed anything suspicious between Mandy and Kenyatta. And besides, it really was none of his fucking business. And Mickey suddenly realized that this wasn't about Mandy, this was about Gallagher. Mickey had such a hard time saying no to the fucker. Always had.

Luckily, Mickey didn't need to say anything because Ian was up close to Mandy instantly. "We need to talk to you."

She shrugged. "So talk."

Ian shook his head. "Alone."

Mandy looked from Ian to Mickey and back again. Mickey could see the slightest hint of anxiety settle on her features. She lowered her volume. "Fuck off, guys. We're watching a movie." Mandy backed up and started to shut the door but Ian stepped in the doorway, blocking the door from closing.

"We need to talk to you now. This can't wait."

Kenyatta was on his feet and heading towards them. "What the hell, man?" Kenyatta grabbed the door and attempted to slam it shut but Ian again blocked it. Kenyatta was instantly in Ian's face. The guy was huge. Ian looked like a child beside him. "You looking to get your ass kicked?"

He was definitely capable of hurting Ian badly. As Kenyatta hovered over him threateningly, Mickey felt like he should do something. He stepped between the two men in a lame attempt to shield Ian. "Everybody just calm the fuck down, alright?"

But Ian stepped right around him. "I thought you only beat up girls, asshole!" He said and then he shoved Mandy's boyfriend as hard as he could.

Kenyatta stumbled a little from the shove. He looked shocked and then mad as hell. "Fuck you!" He said and shoved the redhead back. Ian went flying backward, hitting the back of his head on the corner of a glass console table, shattering it, before landing on his ass.

Suddenly everything was silent. Everyone seemingly stunned by the sudden violence. Mickey looked at Ian. He was still sitting where he had fallen. He gingerly touched the back of his head and Mickey could see blood on his hand where it had touched his wound. "Jesus Christ." He dropped to Ian's side. Putting a hand on the other boy's neck, he tilted his head forward so that he could see the cut. There didn't appear to be any glass stuck in his skin but the cut was bleeding heavily. "Shit. I need to clean this up so I can see how bad it is. You might need stitches."

"That'll teach you to stay outta my business, bitch." Kenyatta then slammed the door shut.

Mickey was momentarily worried that Kenyatta's words would wind Ian up again but the redhead just appeared dazed, as if he hadn't even heard what the other man said. Mickey leaned in closer, making eye contact. "Hey, you okay? You get the wind knocked outta you or something?"

Ian blinked a few times. "I'm okay." But he still appeared dazed and Mickey couldn't understand it because what did Ian think was gonna happen when he shoved a guy twice his size?

Mickey wrapped his hand around Ian's arm and helped him back on his feet before leading him into the bathroom. On the way, Mickey peeked into the living room and, just as Ian predicted, Liam was completely engrossed in Ian's phone, seemingly unaware of his older brother's minor beating.

Mickey pushed Ian down onto the closed toilet seat. Mickey had been tending to wounds (his own as well as those of his siblings) for most of his life. It was second nature to him. He removed alcohol swabs and tweezers from the medicine cabinet before gently pushing Ian's head down so that he was looking at the floor.

Mickey kneeled beside him and began wiping the area clean but it was difficult because the blood was caked in Ian's thick hair. Mickey leaned in close and tried his best to clean the area. He held Ian's head steady with one hand while cleaning the wound with the other. His face was inches from Ian's and the whole thing felt oddly intimate. Everything about the redhead was familiar to Mickey from his scent to the shape of his ear, to the sound of his breathing. Mickey felt his heart beat faster.

He finally had the area free of blood. Gripping Ian's head gently with both hands, he inspected the area for any embedded pieces of glass but didn't find any. Thankfully, the bleeding had all but stopped. Mickey stood up with a sigh. "Well, I think you'll live."

Ian stood up beside him. He had been oddly quiet the entire time Mickey had been cleaning his wound. "Thanks. Sorry about the table. Come on, I'll help you clean up the glass. You got a broom?"

Mickey pulled a broom from the linen closet while Ian retrieved the plastic garbage bin from under the kitchen sink. Mickey gave him a curious look and Ian rolled his eyes. "Mick, I used to hang out here practically every day after school. Don't you think I'd remember where your garbage is?"

Ian held the garbage bin on an angle as Mickey used the broom to sweep in the debris. Once they were satisfied that all the glass pieces were disposed of, Ian returned the garbage to its spot under the kitchen sink. When he turned around, Mickey was right beside him. Ian looked the older boy in the eyes, waiting expectantly.

Mickey was looking at him carefully. "What's up with you, man? You smokin meth or something?"

Rolling his eyes, Ian tried to walk past Mickey but Mickey grabbed his arm. "Seriously, Gallagher. Between that fucking job of yours and starting shit with the jolly green giant . . . it just looks to me like you keep putting yourself in harm's way and I'm just wondering why."

Ian pulled his arm away. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"It just doesn't seem like you. I mean, you were always pretty cautious." And it was true. Between the two of them, Mickey had always been the impulsive one.

Ian was getting agitated. "What you suddenly care?"

Mickey felt himself prickle at the words. He had always cared about Ian and was getting sick of Ian repeatedly implying that he didn't. He suddenly felt defensive. "More than your boyfriend. I mean, where the fuck is he anyway?"

"What's it to you?"

"No, really, Ian. What the fuck kind of boyfriend is he? He doesn't even give a shit if you're out fucking around all night!"

"What the hell do you know about being a boyfriend?"

"If I was your boyfriend, you wouldn't even be working at that club. I would have shut that shit down right from the beginning."

The conversation was intense but they had both been careful to keep their voices down. Until that moment, when Ian seemed to lose it. "You were my boyfriend, Mickey! You can deny it all you want but that's what you were. And you fucking sucked at it!" Mickey recoiled and Ian lowered his voice. "You abandoned me after your dad beat the shit outta us."

Mickey was visibly frustrated, running a shaky hand through his hair. "I wasn't thinking straight, Ian. I was in a real bad place mentally."

"So was I."

"You had your family. I had no one."

"You had me!" The two boys looked at each other, Ian breathing hard and Mickey clenching his fists. Finally, Ian turned away. "This is pointless. I'm gonna put Liam to bed and then go home to the guy who, as you were so generous to point out, doesn't give a shit about me."

Mickey winced realizing that he had hurt Ian with his words, which was the complete opposite of what he had intended. He then watched as Ian put Liam's jacket on and picked him up. Ian looked upset and Mickey wanted to say something to make things better between them but couldn't think of anything. Instead, he silently followed them to the door.

Ian stepped out onto the front stoop before turning back to Mickey. He face softened slightly. "Look, Mickey, it seems like you've really gotten your shit together and I'm glad. I always knew you had it in you and it honestly makes me happy to . . ." Ian looked away as his voice broke. He took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm happy for you. But what we had between us is done. Getting over you leaving was the hardest thing I've ever gone through in my life. I'm sorry, Mick, but I've moved on and I can't go back."

Mickey nodded. Then, without thinking, he put a hand on Ian's shoulder. "Just take care of yourself, man."

Ian nodded, shifting his sleepy brother to his other hip and turning to walk away. Just as Mickey was about to shut the door, Ian turned back to him. "Oh and Mick?" Mickey raised his eyebrows. "I'm not dropping this thing with Mandy."

As Mickey shut the door, he was more grateful for his sister than he'd ever been. Mandy was like a string, possibly frayed and coming apart rapidly, but the one thing still connecting Ian to Mickey.

As Mickey lay in bed moments later, his mind was made up. He would get Ian back and hopefully help his sister in the process.


	4. Who Cares, Anyway?

The next morning, Mickey sat across from Kenyatta and Mandy having breakfast. Kenyatta was eyeing Mickey, clearly trying to intimidate him, while Mickey sipped his coffee and avoided eye contact. A big part of him wanted to kick Kenyatta's ass for hurting Ian the night before. But he needed to talk to Mandy first. He needed to know if there was any truth to Ian's accusations. Mickey looked up from his coffee to find Kenyatta glaring at him. Mickey quirkied an eyebrow. "We got a problem?"

The other man smirked as he got up from the table. "You keep that little bitch outta my business and we won't have a problem."

Mickey watched Kenyatta walk to the bathroom and turned to Mandy who had just sat down across from him. He gestured toward Kenyatta's retreating figure. "Sweet guy you got there."

Mandy rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Mick."

Mickey went to the counter and grabbed the coffee carafe, refilling Mandy's mug, as well as his own, before returning to his seat across from his sister. "What's up with Gallagher?"

"What do you mean?"

"He's acting weird. Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

Mandy shrugged. "I think he's probably on something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Could be anything. I mean, he spends most nights at that club. God only knows what the guys there are feeding him."

"I don't get it. Before I left town, you and him were best friends. Now it's like you don't give a shit about him. Your boyfriend fucked him up last night and you didn't say a goddamn word."

"Ian needs to mind his own business. He was outta line."

"Is he right, though? Is that douchebag hitting you?"

Mandy looked away and Mickey had his answer. "Stop worrying about me and Ian and worry about yourself. You need a life, Mick. When was the last time you got laid?"

It was Mickey's turn to look away, his cheeks reddening. "None of your damn business."

Mandy laughed. "You're so worried about Ian but maybe it's good for him. Going out, meeting guys, getting fucked up. It's called having fun, Mick. You should try it sometime."

"Whatever. Getting drugged by a bunch of creepy old dudes isn't my idea of a good time." Mickey shuddered just thinking about it. Mandy shrugged in response and Mickey hesitated before continuing. "What's the deal with Ian's boyfriend?"

"I don't think he's really a boyfriend. I mean, Ian stays there but I don't think it's serious or anything."

"So they fuck other people?"

"I assume so. I imagine Ian's fucking around at work but who the hell knows. Anyway, the guy is a douchebag from what I've seen."

Mickey raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "But no surprise there. Ian's always been a doormat in relationships and he's got shit taste in men." Mandy winked at him. "I gotta get to the diner for my shift. You coming?"

Mickey sighed. "Yeah. Let me grab my jacket."

 

Ian woke up in his childhood bed, the familiar sounds of his brothers' breathing comforting. He sat up and immediately felt the tenderness on the back of his head. "Fuck", he muttered quietly while gingerly touching the wound. The events of the previous night came rushing back to him.

Ian grabbed his phone from the end table and found no texts or missed calls. He had planned to go back to Brian's apartment but it had been so late by the time Fiona finally got home that he decided to crash with his siblings. The five beers he had consumed after returning from the Milkovich house may have had something to do with his decision to stay, as well.

Ian put his phone aside and bit his lip. Mickey's words the previous night had gotten to him. If Ian was completely honest with himself, he had purposely not texted or called Brian the night before. He had wanted to see if the other man would get concerned when Ian failed to come home. Ian had been testing him and he had failed.

Although he didn't want to admit it, it hurt Ian deeply. He asked himself if he was overreacting. Because what exactly did it mean? That Brian didn't care if Ian fucked other guys? Ian didn't even know if he really cared whether Brian fucked anyone else. But what about just making it home safely? Did the other man care about his safety at all? Brian didn't seem to share any of Mickey's concerns that his job wasn't safe. Then again, maybe Mickey just couldn't stand the idea of other guys touching him. Well, Ian couldn't stand the idea of anyone else touching Mickey, either. Yet, he didn't really care with Brian.

Ian's head was spinning as he got up from the bed and made his way downstairs. He had slept in his clothes and he didn't have a toothbrush with him so he figured he'd just go back to Brian's and clean up there.

 

The apartment was quiet as Ian entered. He was pretty sure he would never get used to that quiet after the loud chaos that he had grown up with. Ian put his wallet and keys on the console table and made his way to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of Poland Spring and some aspirin because his head was pounding. Just then, he noticed the soft sound of fingers tapping rhythmically against a keyboard. Ian realized that he hadn't even noticed Brian. The other man was sitting in the living room in a recliner, a computer balanced on his lap and headphones in his ears. Ian went over and sat on the coffee table in front of him, gesturing for Brian to remove the headphones.

Finally looking up, Brian appeared slightly annoyed but removed the headphones. "Hey, Ian. What's up?"

Ian shook his head with a roll of his eyes.

Brian appeared confused. "What? You're pissed off or something?"

"I didn't come home last night and you're not even going to ask me where I was or what I was doing?"

Brian shrugged. "Fine, I'll take the bait. What were you doing? You're obviously dying to tell me."

Ian shook his head again, exasperated.

"What the fuck, Ian? What's your deal?"

"You weren't even slightly concerned?"

"Concerned about what?"

"I don't know. Maybe you'd be worried something happened to me?"

Brian sighed and closed the computer on his lap. He looked at Ian condescendingly. "You want me to worry about you, huh? You stay out all night on purpose so I'll worry? Fine. Next time you stay out late, I'll call you and text you a bunch of times so you can feel good about yourself." And with that, he opened the computer up again and began typing.

Ian felt the anger building inside him quickly. His entire body actually tingled with it from the tips of his fingers to the pit of his stomach. "God, you're such an asshole!" And all he wanted to do was grab that damn computer and launch it through the stupid wall of windows but he stopped himself.

Instead, he got up and made his way to the bedroom. He slammed the door shut and paced back and forth. He was shaking, literally vibrating with anger. "Motherfucker!" And he didn't really know if he was referring to Brian for not giving a shit about him or to Mickey for rubbing it in his face. And suddenly Ian felt rage toward Mickey and Kash and Ned and all the other guys who had treated him like he didn't matter.

And then he was sobbing. Like a toddler who is crying so hard he can't catch his breath. Ian sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to stop. What the hell was wrong with him? As he tried to suppress the sobs and even out his breathing, he found that it only got worse. Just as he put his wet face in his hands, Brian walked in.

Ian looked up at him and the two made eye contact, Ian still sniveling and struggling a little to catch his breath. Brian reached for his wallet and keys. "I'm going to a movie."

And then Ian was alone.

 

Ian spent the day on the couch with a blanket pulled up to his chin. He wasn't wearing a watch so he didn't know exactly how many hours he'd been laying there but he knew it was way longer than any movie. And yet, Brian hadn't returned.

He didn't eat. At first he wasn't hungry but as the hours slowly passed, and he only half paid attention to the television, he became aware of an emptiness in his belly.

He hadn't intended to spend the day on the couch. He thought he would just wait there until Brian returned. And then the two could talk it out. Maybe Ian could make the other man understand where he had been coming from. Or maybe Ian would just apologize and then they could make up and maybe have sex before Ian left for work. Ian really wanted to make up because he was feeling really alone and sad and he needed someone to wrap his arms around him, even if it was someone who didn't really care about him.

But Brian hadn't returned and Ian was feeling more low with each hour that passed. He noticed that it had gotten dark outside. He really needed to put a lamp on. He also needed to shower and eat dinner before work. But he couldn't seem to get himself to move.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Ian wanted to ignore it but figured that it must be one of Brian's friends and that he better answer or Brian might be annoyed with him.

Ian stood up and stretched. He felt dizzy and sort of fuzzy in the head. Had he drifted off at some point? He couldn't even remember what he'd been watching all those hours. As he made his way to the door, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked disheveled, his red hair sticking up in all directions and his clothes wrinkled. He had bags under his eyes. He was thinking that he better clean himself up or he'd make no money at the club that night as he swung open the door. The last person he would have expected stood on the other side.

 

At first, neither of them spoke. They just stared. And then Ian broke the silence. "How did you know the address?"

Mickey shrugged. "Mandy." Mickey was looking over Ian's shoulder at the apartment. "You gonna invite me in or leave me standing here all night?"

Ian stepped back and Mickey walked past him, looking around. He had a brown paper bag in his arms.

"Swanky place. Your boyfriend here?"

Ian closed the door. "Out." He stood in front of Mickey. "What's in the bag?"

Mickey looked down at the bag, almost like he had forgotten it was there. "Brought dinner from the diner."

Ian's eyebrows raised. "You brought me dinner?"

Mickey shrugged as his cheeks turned red. "You're skinny, dude. Thought you could use a good meal." Ian tilted his head to one side, looking perplexed and studying Mickey's face. And then Mickey turned away, embarrassed. "Not a big deal. I work at the dump. Not like I paid for the shit or anything."

Ian looked at him a moment longer before shrugging. "I'll go get plates."

 

Turned out, Ian was starving. Mickey watched him devour the chicken fingers and fries like the kid hadn't eaten in a week. Mickey, however, had lost his appetite. Something about Gallagher just wasn't right. Though he couldn't quite figure out exactly was off about him. The redhead looked exhausted. And he was still wearing the same clothes from the night before so Mickey was pretty sure the kid hadn't showered. And that wasn't Ian at all. "So you were right about Mandy."

Ian looked up, surprised. "She admit it?"

"Nah, but I can tell. Thanks for uh . . . looking out for her."

Ian shrugged, going back to his meal. "I always look out for the people I care about."

Do you care about me? He wanted to ask but said, "Well, I appreciate it. I'll get rid of him. I'll get my brothers involved. We'll do something."

Ian nodded. "How's work?"

Mickey searched his face for some sort of smirk or mischief but Ian was sincere. Maybe Mickey had been wrong to assume Ian would look down on his job. Maybe he needed to let his guard down a little more with Ian, be a little less defensive. He swallowed the sarcastic remark that had been sitting on his tongue. "Sucks but could be worse. I'll keep it 'till I find something better. Just got off a shift. What about you? You working tonight?"

Ian nodded. "Shift starts at 10."

"You really like working there?" Mickey couldn't stifle the look of distaste on his features. He just could not hide his disgust over Ian's job.

Ian looked at Mickey's face a moment before responding. And then he was smirking like the new Ian, the one so different from the sweet, cautious boy Mickey had left behind. "Some of the dancers suck guys off for extra cash." He raised an eyebrow and looked hard at Mickey and there was a challenge there.

Mickey knew he shouldn't take the bait but he was powerless to stop himself. His entire body was growing tense. "You doing that?"

"Haven't. Not yet."

Mickey put his chicken finger down and leaned over the table toward the other boy. "You don't want to be doing that shit, Ian. That shit will send you down a bad path."

Ian moved off his chair and knelt in front of Mickey, reaching for the button on his jeans. "Oh yeah? Want kind of path is that?" He smiled up at Mickey innocently as he started unbuckling his jeans.

And then Mickey couldn't speak because his dick was in Ian's mouth and Mickey could do nothing but lean back in his chair, moaning in pleasure.

 

Mickey came hard in Ian's mouth. It had been an intimate blow job, Mickey's hands intwined in Ian's hair, then caressing Ian's face as they looked at each other, Ian's perfect mouth wrapped around Mickey's dick. And Mickey was having all these fucking ridiculous gay feelings about Ian and he knew they were pointless and fucking dangerous but he couldn't stop them. Because now he was picturing Ian blowing other guys and so he was feeling really possessive. And he told himself he was being stupid because Ian was someone else's boyfriend so he was definitely blowing at least one other guy and Mickey had no business being jealous but then everything inside Mickey rejected that because fuck, Ian was his. As far as Mickey was concerned, Ian had been his since he was fifteen years old and was still his, boyfriend or not.

Mickey was breathing hard as his dick fell out of Ian's mouth and the redhead looked up at him, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied look in his eye. He smiled widely at Mickey. Damn, he was a cocky shit sometimes. And suddenly, Mickey was just dying to have Ian in his mouth. "Let me return the favor?"

Before Ian could respond, they both heard the jungle of a key in the lock. Ian's grin was instantly gone as he got up off his knees. "Fuck, Mick, put your dick away."

Mickey briefly considered doing the opposite because a part of him, the biggest part, wanted that doughebag to know exactly what had just happened. Mickey wasn't afraid of his reaction. In fact, he welcomed it. He had seen the guy and had no doubt that he could kick his ass. But that wasn't what Ian wanted. And Mickey was no longer the impulsive beast he once was. As much as he was itching to beat the guy senseless, he knew it was the wrong move.

Brian entered the apartment and immediately began looking back and forth between Ian and Mickey. Ian was cleaning up the remains of their meal, looking anywhere but at Brian, while Mickey just sat there. "Hey, Brian. You remember Mickey?" His voice was flat.

Brian's eyes settled on Mickey. The previous time the two had met, the older man had barely looked at him. This time, he was studying him. And he looked suspicious. Mickey looked right back at him, doing nothing to assuage the other man's suspicions. Brian finally nodded at him but his expression was anything but friendly. He turned to Ian. "You working tonight?"

Ian walked right past him, his hands filled with plastic containers and utensils. He entered the kitchen. Mickey and Brian could still see him because the kitchen was open to the living room. Ian dumped the garbage in the trash can and attempted to walk past Brian again but the other man grabbed him by the elbow.

Ian still wouldn't look at him and Mickey realized the two must have had a fight earlier. Is that why Ian had blown him? To spite Brian? Is that why Ian had accepted the dinner? Brian glanced at Mickey and then leaned in close to Ian, speaking in a low voice but Mickey could still hear everything. "Still pissed at me?"

Ian tried to pull his arm away but Brian held on firmly. "Fuck off."

The older man reached out with his other hand and held Ian's shoulder, positioning Ian so that they were facing each other. "I'm sorry, alright? You know I'm an asshole sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

Brian looked over at Mickey and Mickey didn't even pretend not to be following the entire exchange, soaking in the dynamics of the relationship. Brian looked like he wanted to throw Mickey out but then turned back to Ian. "Go shower. I'll drive you to work later. It's cold out."

"Like you give a shit." Ian pushed past Brian and opened the front door. "Thanks for the meal, Mick. But I gotta start getting ready now."

Mickey stood and walked to the door. "You should come by my place soon so we can plan what to do about Mandy."

"Thought you and your brothers were gonna take care of it?"

"I need someone with a brain to help with the planning. My brothers will help me carry it out."

Ian thought about it a moment. "Yeah, okay. Call me."

Mickey looked over at Brian and the guy had a different expression on his face: realization. And he wasn't happy. And at that moment, Mickey understood that, whatever strange relationship Brian shared with Ian, the guy was not giving up Ian without a fight. Good thing fighting was what Mickey did best.


	5. Confrontation

After having dinner with Ian at Brian's apartment, Mickey went straight to The Alibi. He sat at the bar, drinking beer and trying not to think about Ian. It was impossible. His mind kept returning to what the other boy had said about the dancers sucking off guys at work. He was worried about Ian and that was something new. He had never worried much about Gallagher before, only worried over when he'd get to fuck him next. And now he couldn't seem to do anything but worry about him. His instinct to protect the redhead was stronger than any instinct he'd had before and it was making him question things that he had never dared question before. Like maybe in order to be with Ian he needed to come out. But that was crazy. It was too dangerous. They could never survive like that in the south side or anywhere with Terry alive. Or could they? Because that was what Ian wanted, had always wanted. And what Mickey wanted was Ian. Apparently enough to question everything he had always been so sure about. Fuck, maybe he had changed as much as Ian had.

He had legitimate reason to worry. The other boy was not doing well. Mickey figured Mandy must be right that Ian was on something because he was acting really bizarre but what was he on? And there was something besides just jealousy that bugged him about Brian. He didn't like how the older man was always grabbing Ian, pushing him, guiding him, controlling him. He didn't like seeing Ian in that fancy apartment where he looked so out of place. And then the job, of course the job. Mickey hated Ian's job. It represented everything he feared and hated: all those fags putting it all out there with no shame and no regard for their own safety.

Mickey downed the rest of his drink and motioned to Kevin for another. He briefly considered going to boystown and making sure Ian wasn't up to anything stupid (like blowing strangers for cash) but decided against it. If he went to the club, he'd end up knocking out every old queer that touched Ian and he doubted the redhead would appreciate him blocking all of his tips. It would only make Ian angry. So Mickey would remain at the bar until he had drunk himself to oblivion.

Suddenly, a familiar and heavily inebriated voice cut into his thoughts. "Hey, I remember you. You were almost my son-in-law once."

Mickey didn't even need to look up from his glass to know who it was seated beside him. "Fuck off, Frank. And keep your fucking voice down."

Frank only laughed. "Barkeep! How about a beer for a dying man?"

Kevin shook his head. "No way. Bar's practically bankrupt as it is. I'm done giving away free drinks."

Frank stood up, swaying on his feet before catching his balance on the edge of the bar. "Your generation has no respect for your elders."

Kevin shrugged. "Aren't you supposed to be laying off the booze right now anyway?"

"Whatever. If you won't serve me, someone else will."

Frank stumbled his way out of the bar as Kevin turned to Mickey. "Fuckin' Frank."

"Yeah."

"Old drunk never changes. I guess nothing ever really changes around here." Mickey just stared at his now empty glass, wishing that were true.

 

Iggy sat at the Milkovich dining table the following night. Mickey grabbed three beers from the kitchen and set them on the table, one in front of his brother and one in front of the chair he sat down at. Iggy eyed the third beer. "Expecting someone else?

Mickey nodded. "Gallagher."

Iggy raised an eyebrow. "The gay one or the curly haired dude?"

Mickey sighed. "The redhead."

Iggy nodded. "Why we gotta include him?"

"Because he's the one who brought it to my attention in the first place, dipshit. Now shut the fuck up about it. Focus on Kenyatta and how the fuck we're gonna get rid of him."

"We know for sure he's hitting her?"

Mickey nodded.

A flash of anger took over Iggy's features. And then they both turned as the door slammed and Gallagher came rushing in, dragging a wave of cold air with him. "Sorry I'm late. Missed my train."

Iggy started to say something sarcastic about Ian letting himself in but Mickey didn't hear it because he was completely focused on Ian's bruised face.

Mickey stared as Ian started taking his jacket off. "What the fuck is that?"

Ian shrugged, sitting down and taking a sip of beer. "Not like you've never seen me with a black eye before, Mick. I had 'em every other week in high school."

He was right but Mickey was still furious. "Your fucking boyfriend do that? Maybe his is the ass I need to kick, not Kenyatta's."

Iggy was looking between the two men. "You mean that douchbag that was here the other morning? I'm not going after some dude I don't even know to defend Gallagher's honor."

Ian put a hand up, exasperated. "That's not what we're . . . no one's . . ." Ian seemed lost to find the right words while Mickey just looked at him, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. His raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for Ian to continue. "It wasn't Brian, okay? It was a guy from the club. Can we drop it now?"

Mickey slammed his fist on the table, causing both Ian and Iggy to jump. "Are you fucking kidding me? Where are the fucking bouncers?"

Ian's voice softened slightly as he looked down at his beer. "It wasn't at the club. The guy followed me when I left. Just some loser who thought I owed him something. But I had no problem fighting him off. I can take care of myself. It's not a big deal."

Mickey felt a shudder go through his body at the thought of some violent perv trying to drag Ian into an alley. And the bruises on his face made Mickey want to punch someone. He couldn't stand the thought of anyone hurting Ian. 

Mickey wanted to lecture Ian about quitting that stupid fucking job but then he caught the look on his brother's face. Iggy was looking at Mickey closely over his beer. Iggy knew Ian was gay, thanks to their fucking big mouthed sister, it wouldn't take long for Iggy to figure out that Mickey was too if Mickey didn't shut the hell up. If he hadn't figured it out already.

Mickey drank his beer to keep himself from talking. Iggy and Ian immediately started throwing out ideas about how to get rid of Kenyatta. Mickey couldn't take his eyes off the redhead and that stupid black eye. It was strange, getting so worked up over a black eye but he just felt so possessive of the kid, like Ian was his to protect. And he looked so damn young and vulnerable sitting there, a little pout on his face as he got all worked up over Mandy, wearing his heart on his sleeve, as always. Except with Mickey. Ever since Mickey returned to town, Ian was so damn guarded with him. Mickey needed to regain the younger boy's trust but he had no idea how.

Just then, there were loud voices coming from outside before the front door swung open, Mandy and Kenyatta bursting through, laughing and clearly drunk. It was only a moment before Kenyatta's eyes met Ian's. The giant man glared down at him before turning to Mickey. "I thought I told you to keep that little bitch out of my business."

Before Mickey could formulate a response, Ian was out of his chair. "Mandy is my business. You need to get the hell outta her life."

"Ian, stop." Mandy said nervously, putting a hand on his arm.

Ian turned to her, taking her hand. "Mandy, you deserve so much better. Just tell him to leave."

Kenyatta was looking closely at the way Mandy and Ian were touching. He was suddenly enraged. "Are you fucking this prick, you whore?" He grabbed Mandy roughly by the arm, wrenching her away from Ian and towards the kitchen.

Mickey and Iggy were on their feet in a second but Ian was faster. He launched himself into the larger man, landing a solid punch to the jaw. Kenyatta looked stunned for a moment, touching his jaw. Mickey looked to Ian and saw that the redhead was about to go in for another punch and Mickey yelled for Ian to calm the fuck down.

This time, Kenyatta was quick to respond, reaching behind him and grabbing a long and thick knife from the butcher block. A moment later he had Ian pinned against the wall, knife to his throat. Mickey could see a bead of blood forming where the tip of the blade pressed into Ian's pale skin. Mickey rushed over, heart in his throat. "Take it easy!"

The room was suddenly quiet, Ian's breathing the loudest sound in the house. Mickey stood beside Kenyatta. Mickey's eyes were locked on Ian's, which were wide with terror. Mickey could hear Mandy begin to cry quietly somewhere behind him and a breathy "Jesus Christ" from Iggy's mouth. 

Mickey was so scared he could barely breath but he struggled to sound normal as he spoke. "Everybody just needs to calm the fuck down, okay?" He wanted to look at Kenyatta but he couldn't seem to drag his eyes away from the sight of that blade against Ian's throat.

Kenyatta was still glaring at Ian. "If you've been fucking with Mandy, I'll cut your throat right now!"

Ian closed his eyes as the blade pushed slightly harder into his throat, too terrified to respond, as a small trickle of blood made its way down his neck.

Mickey wanted to tell the guy that Ian wasn't fucking Mandy but the sight of that trickle of blood seemed to paralyze him. He couldn't seem to speak or move. And then Mickey noticed a figure moving slowly towards them out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see his brother approaching cautiously, a hunting rifle pointed directly at Kenyatta. "Put the knife down and get the fuck outta our house."

Ian opened his eyes just as Kenyatta turned to see Iggy. The larger man's mouth opened in surprise. Then, without taking his eyes from the gun pointed at him, he removed the knife from Ian's throat and dropped it, putting his hands up.

Mickey grabbed Ian by the wrist and dragged him down the hall and into his bedroom. The last thing he saw before closing the door was Kenyatta walking towards the front door, Iggy following, the gun aimed at the larger man's back, Mandy close behind, crying softly.

Mickey turned back to Ian and pushed him, hard, with both hands. Ian stumbled backwards. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!!" Mickey shouted. "He almost fucking slit your throat, you fucking idiot!" Mickey pushed him again.

Ian stumbled slightly before regaining his balance again. He shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. "I don't know, Mick. I don't know what's wrong with me." Ian's voice trembled with emotion and Mickey could see real fear in his eyes. He was looking at the older boy almost pleadingly. "Lately, I just don't feel right."

Mickey nodded, feeling himself slowly calming down as his brain processed that Ian was safe. He was still angry but seeing how upset the other boy was, he lowered his voice. "What are you on?"

Ian looked confused for a second and then almost offended. His forehead creased into a frown. "Nothing. I'm not on anything."

Mickey raised an eyebrow. "I saw you that night at the club. You were high as a fucking kite."

"Well, yeah. But that's only when I'm working." Mickey crossed his arms and looked at him skeptically. "Mick, I swear to God, the only thing in my system right now is the half a beer I had before Kenyatta walked in."

Mickey opened his mouth to respond but then they were interrupted by the chirp of Ian's phone. The redhead reached into his pocket and read the text message before sighing and looking back up at Mickey. "I gotta go. Fiona got roped into a double shift and Debs has a date. "I gotta watch Liam."

Mickey nodded. He was annoyed that they were interrupted but, at the same time, he was exhausted from everything that happened and was a little relieved. "Come on, I'll walk you out."

Ian followed Mickey into the living room and put his jacket on. Iggy and Mandy must have retreated to their rooms or gone out because the house was silent. Mickey walked Ian to the door and opened it. But Ian hesitated. "I'm sorry, Mick."

Mickey looked in Ian's eyes and he knew the younger boy was sincere. "Were you serious before? You're really not on anything?"

Ian shook his head. "I swear."

Mickey nodded. He believed him. And as he watched the other boy walk down his front steps, pulling a hat over his red hair, he didn't know whether to be relieved or more scared.

 

Later that evening, Ian was even more attentive than usual with Liam. He was rattled by what had happened earlier with Kenyatta so he threw himself into engaging his younger brother as a way of distracting himself from thinking about the scary changes that were happening inside of him.

So the two brothers built a rocket ship with blocks, they battled with Liam's dinosaurs and they had a race with his cars. Then, Ian gave him a bath. The redhead washed Liam's hair while the preschooler played with his pirate ship. Afterward, Ian wrapped his brother in a big towel before putting his pajamas on. Finally, the two snuggled up in bed together so Ian could read him a book.

Liam fell asleep quickly after the story and Ian headed downstairs to find Fiona rushing through the door looking exhausted. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I know I've been asking a lot of you lately."

Ian put his jacket and hat on. "It's okay. I don't mind."

"Do you have to leave? Debbie and Carl should be home soon. I thought maybe we could all watch a movie or something. Like old times."

"Sorry, Fi. I gotta work tonight." She looked disappointed. Ian went closer and wrapped his older sister in a hug. She held him tight and it felt so good in her arms. Ian briefly considered telling Fiona about the weird mood swings and feelings he'd been experiencing but then they broke apart and he saw how worn out she looked and he couldn't bring himself to add one more weight to her load.

 

Ian normally enjoyed his job but that night he just couldn't get into it. Fortunately, he was very good at faking it. He did a lot of lap dances and did a few drugs but not nearly as much as usual. Having been brutally attacked twice in the prior twenty-four hours, had left him feeling slightly paranoid and edgy, and so he wanted to remain at least a little sober in order to protect himself should the need arise. He discovered that giving lap dances while practically sober was very different than while high off his ass as he usually was. He had never really noticed before how a lot of the guys gripped his sides so hard that it was painful. He marveled at the fact that their fingers didn't leave bruises on his bony hips. Also, he suddenly hated the way they put their faces so close to his so that he felt like he was breathing in their stinky breath rather than getting any fresh air. But what bothered him the most was how they looked at him so lustfully, almost like he could see every disgusting fantasy the guy had playing out in his head involving Ian.

But before he knew it, the club was closing. He changed into his street clothes and counted his tips in the changing room. He had done surprisingly well considering his mood.

Ian pulled on his jacket and exited the club. It was chilly and he dug around in his bag for his hat. When he looked up again, he found himself face to face with a bundled up but chilly looking Milkovich.

"Mick? The hell are you doing here?"

Mickey shrugged, hands remaining in his pockets. "Thought I'd walk you home."

"You don't live anywhere near me. By the time you get home, you'll have to go to work."

Mickey shrugged again, looking off to Ian's side, anywhere but in his eyes. "Thought you should have someone with you. Just in case that guy from last night comes back."

"I beat the crap outta him. Don't think he's coming back."

Mickey scowled. "Yeah well, some other fucker then. That shit hole is just crawling with old pervs."

"That's ridiculous."

"You're ridiculous."

Ian felt the sides of his mouth curling into a grin. The older boy finally looked at him. Seeing Ian's grin, Mickey grinned back at him, though Ian could tell he was trying to fight it. Ian laughed. "Come on, I'll sleep at my family's house tonight."

Mickey raised his eyebrows. "You sure?"

Ian nodded. They started walking towards the train and, as Ian caught up to the older boy, he bumped him with his shoulder just to say thanks.


	6. Ian

Mickey awoke to the sound of Ian's voice. He could also hear Mandy and the sound of plastic dragging against the floor and the front door repeatedly opening and closing. He was exhausted but was curious what they were up to. Ian had spent the night with the other Gallagher's so there must be some reason for the redhead to be at the Milkovich house so early in the morning. He sighed in defeat as he realized that he would probably never get used to working an early shift. He suppressed the urge to pull a pillow over his head and reluctantly sat up. He rubbed his sleepy eyes before getting out of bed and making his way to the living room. He almost collided with Mandy, who was dragging a garbage bag across the room towards the front door. "What are you doing?"

Mandy tossed the bag out the front door and Mickey could see a small pile of bags on the front lawn before his sister kicked the door shut. "Getting rid of Kenyatta's stuff. Texted him that it's supposed to rain this afternoon so he better get his ass over here soon if he cares about any of it."

Mickey made eye contact with Ian. He was wearing some kind of tracksuit and sneakers. His hair was damp as if he had just come from some sort of run. Fucker always had so much energy in the morning. Ian gave him a small grin and winked at him, which made Mickey feel a rush of warmth through his entire body. The feeling was overwhelming so he dragged his eyes away from the other boy and poured himself a mug of coffee. "Why were you with that fucker anyway?"

Mandy shrugged. "I realized Lip wasn't coming back and I guess any warm body would do."

Ian squeezed her shoulder. "Don't worry, Mands. You'll meet someone better."

Mandy laughed bitterly. "You mean someone like Brian?" 

Her voice was cold and Ian looked stricken. "What?"

"Just saying your relationship sucks so you got no right looking down on mine."

Ian's voice was shaky. "He doesn't hit me."

Mandy raised an eyebrow. "You've got a black eye."

"Brian didn't do that!"

"Did he care that someone else did?"

Ian was silent. The poor kid looked so rattled. Mandy could be really harsh when she wanted to be. That was the Milkovich in her coming out. They all talked to each other that way. But Ian wasn't like them and Mickey had never heard her talk to him like that before. "Fuck off, Mandy, leave him alone."

Ian and Mandy both looked at him in surprise. Then, Ian went to grab his stuff from the couch. "I gotta go." Mickey could see Ian's bottom lip trembling subtly as he put his jacket on. And his puppy eyes were wet. Ian wasn't the type of person you could say just anything to. You had to be careful with him. Mickey knew this from personal experience.

Once Ian was out the door, Mickey turned to his sister. "What the fuck, Mandy? He was here at the crack of dawn helping your sorry ass. Why the fuck would you do that to him?"

"A Gallagher isn't gonna look down on me."

Mickey was going to argue that that wasn't what Ian had been doing but decided against it. There was no reasoning with Mandy when she was in one of her moods. So they both dropped it and got ready for work in silence.

 

Ian was having a really bad night at work. It had been a rough day. The fight with Mandy in the morning had messed him up. It wasn't just that she had hurt his feelings, although she definitely had. But he was mostly upset because she had humiliated him in front of Mickey by implying that Brian had hit him (he hadn't) and that his relationship with the older man was as toxic as hers had been with Kenyatta. 

It had been important to Ian that Mickey see that he had moved on. Ian had felt so rejected by Mickey's departure the year before. Now that Mickey was back, he needed him to see that other men wanted him even if Mickey didn't. But then Mandy had made Ian look like some sort of battered housewife. It had destroyed whatever remaining dignity Ian had managed to hold onto.

After leaving the Milkovich house that morning, Ian had returned to Brian's apartment and spent the day on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, watching tv. Brian was at a client's office all day so Ian didn't have to worry about the other man judging him for his lack of productivity.

Ian had somehow managed to shower and drag himself to work. He had even applied his eyeliner, though his hands were shaking too badly for Ian to do a very good job.

He had been in denial for months but, as he stood dancing on his platform, completely sober, he finally had to admit to himself that something was seriously wrong. He didn't feel right, hadn't felt right in months but it had gotten more severe. And then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the guy who had attacked him earlier in the week.

He was a creepy looking guy: middle-aged, fidgety, socially awkward. He kept staring at Ian shamelessly even after the two made eye contact. A shudder ran through Ian's body. After busting up the guy's face pretty badly the other night, Ian had not expected him to return.

Ian was due to work the floor giving lap dances in the next five minutes. He knew that creepy fucker would be the first one buying and he couldn't take it. The thought of his body pressed up against the other man made him want to vomit. Ian climbed down from the platform and headed quickly into the changing room. With increasingly shaky hands, he dug his phone out of his bag and called Brian.

Brian was laughing when he answered and Ian remembered that the other man was hosting some friends in his apartment that night. "What's up? Aren't you working?"

Ian took a deep breath, trying not to cry. "That guy is here. The one who attacked me the other night."

"Oh. Shit. That sucks."

"Can you come get me? I'm freaking out."

There was a pause, Ian's heart beating practically out of his chest. The door opened and Ian jumped. But it was just another dancer. "Ian, I got friends here."

The other dancer grabbed something out of his bag and left. Ian was relieved. It was humiliating enough having the conversation without an audience. "If you drive, it won't take long."

The other man sighed. "I'll order you an Uber, okay?"

"Are you fucking serious? The guy tried to rape me two nights ago! You saw what he did to my eye!"

"You'll be fine. The car will pick you up right at the door. Have one of the bouncers walk you out if you're uncomfortable."

Ian was so angry that he was tempted to tell Brian that he could shove the Uber car up his ass but, ultimately, his fear won out over his pride and he gritted out a defeated "okay" before hanging up.

Ian was too embarrassed to ask any of the bouncers to stand with him so he settled for standing right up against the building, where no one could come at him from behind. The car arrived quickly and Ian sank into the seat, relief washing over him. It suddenly occurred to him that he had forgotten to tell his manager that he was leaving but he just couldn't get himself to care at that moment.

When he arrived at Brian's apartment, he recognized the other two guys sitting there. Craig, an old college buddy of Brian's, and Joe, the guy Craig was seeing. The three of them were sitting on the couch. Brian was sipping red wine and laughing, clearly not waiting at the edge of his seat for Ian to arrive home safely. He barely glanced at Ian when he walked in the door. "Hey, man. You made it."

Ian removed his jacket and hung it up in the closet before making his way over to the trio. Brian looked him up and down with a curious expression. "Your boss okay with you leaving in the middle of your shift?"

Ian shrugged, taking Brian's glass from the other man's hand and draining it with one gulp. Then, his eyes swept over the men on the couch. He had spent time with this couple before and he always felt like the conversation revolved around topics that Ian had no knowledge of or interest in. They talked about their jobs and whether they preferred Utah or Vermont for skiing, Bermuda or Aruba for beach vacations. Ian had never been on a plane. When Brian had mentioned they were coming over, ian had been hoping they would be gone by the time he got home from work.

Ian was about to head into the bedroom when Joe asked him what he did for work. Ian froze as Brian snickered beside him. "Let's just say that Ian works in the entertainment industry." 

Ian shifted uncomfortably and looked around the room. Craig looked confused before losing interest, while Joe was looking at him with a strange expression on his face that Ian couldn't read. "We're about to play Trivial Pursuit. You should join us." Joe said.

Ian considered and decided that he'd rather play a game with a bunch of pretentious assholes than be alone, trying not to think about what the hell was going on with his brain.

At one point a little later in the evening, Ian passed Brian in the hallway on his way back from the bathroom. He grabbed the older man by the arm, glad to have a moment alone with him. "When people ask about my job, I wish you would just tell them the truth. When you answer like you do, it's worse. Makes me feel like you're embarrassed of me." Brian didn't answer, only looked at him before walking away. And that was typical of Brian: somehow able to wound Ian deeper with what he didn't say than any words that actually left his mouth. Ian sat back down on the couch, feeling more worthless than the dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

Throughout the evening, the three men continued to play the game. They went through several bottles of red wine as the evening progressed. Ian barely participated. He felt foggy and distracted. He stopped drinking after that first glass because his stomach was a mess. Throughout the game, whenever Ian's eyes happened to pass over Joe, he found the other man leering at him. It was similar to how the guys at the club looked at him. Ian's mind, already a fuzzy, jumbled mess, started mixing up the creepy guy from the club with Joe and he was feeling increasingly uncomfortable. Finally, he got up and, without a word, headed to the bedroom.

Ian sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, trying to calm himself down. His heart was beating so rapidly that it occurred to him that he might be having some sort of panic attack. Suddenly, the door opened and Brian was beside him. "You okay?"

Ian nodded. "Yeah, I'm just really tired. Going to call it a night. You guys can keep playing. The noise won't keep me up."

Ian could tell that Brian was drunk. He seemed to hesitate a little before sitting down beside Ian. "How tired are you?"

Ian looked at him, confused at what he was getting at. "Pretty fucking tired."

Brian put a hand on his shoulder. "You know, Joe's interested."

Ian blinked at him. "What?"

"He wants to fuck you."

Ian's mouth went dry. "You want me to fuck Joe?"

Brian shrugged. "I'm okay with it. Craig Is okay with it too. If you're into it, he and I will watch a movie or something."

Ian looked at Brian with disgust. "No, I don't want to fuck your creepy, ugly friend."

Brian frowned. "You're pissed or something?"

Ian shook his head, feeling his entire body trembling. "Do you care about me at all?"

"Do I care about you?"

"Do you?"

Now it was Brian's turn to look disgusted. "We're not boyfriends here. I'm not gonna marry you."

"Fuck you."

"I have a masters degree from University of Chicago. You didn't graduate high school. You know what this is."

Ian stood up to walk away and Brian grabbed his arm. "You have no right to be pissed off. We're both getting something out of this. You live in my apartment. I pay for everything, Ian. You don't want to fuck Joe, then don't. But don't be mad at me for being cool with it if you did. And don't act like you're some kind of victim here because you're not."

Brian stormed out of the room and, a moment later, Ian could hear him talking and laughing with his friends as if he hadn't been affected by their altercation at all. Ian stripped his clothes off and slid into bed. When Brian eventually got in beside him, he reached for Ian and they fucked because, as Mandy had said, any warm body would do. Afterward, Ian lay on his back, staring at the ceiling for hours before finally falling into a deep sleep sometime around dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is already written and just needs to be edited. I should be posting it in a day or two.


	7. You Know Him So Well

Mickey hadn't heard anything from Ian in a week. He had tried calling and texting a couple times but received no answer from the redhead. Mickey was starting to suspect that the other boy had only talked to him in the first place because he wanted Kenyatta out of the picture and once that goal was accomplished, Ian was done with him.

The brunet sighed into his drink. Other than Ian, his life was going fairly well. Kenyatta was out of the picture and Mickey hadn't fucked up his job yet. Iggy had found some "jobs" to get in on and so, between the three of them, the Milkovich siblings were caught up with all their bills, at least the important ones. And Mickey had a secret: most nights after work, when Mandy and Iggy were out fucking around or at home playing video games, Mickey was holed up in his bedroom, studying for the GED. 

He had a big book to study from that he had taken out of the library. And he found that he actually enjoyed studying, mostly because it took his mind off the pain of having lost Ian. He needed to keep his mind off of Ian at night because otherwise his thoughts inevitably drifted to images of the redhead fucking Brian or Brian fucking him, however the two of them did things. Or he would picture Ian at the club with all those aggressive older guys and that was worse because it made Mickey uneasy with no way of knowing if the other boy made it home safely.

It was a Thursday evening when Lip Gallagher came rushing into The Alibi. Mickey had come straight from work and Kevin had just slid a third beer in front of him. Lip looked around, appearing flustered, and then spotted Mickey. He immediately went over to him, making no move to take his hat or coat off. "I need a favor."

Mickey's eyebrows raised. "Since when do you and I do each other favors?"

Lip wore an expression like asking Mickey for a favor was excruciating. "Yeah, well, I tried calling Mandy but she's working a double. Listen, I need you to go to Ian's boyfriend's place and check up on him."

Mickey almost choked on his beer. "You fucking serious right now?"

"Look, that douchebag boyfriend of his keeps calling me, saying Ian's sick or something, won't get outta bed. I can't deal with this shit right now. I'm in the middle of mid-terms. I've got two exams tomorrow alone. And Fiona's busy with her own shit, working like crazy and taking care of Liam."

"You try calling him?"

"Doesn't answer." Lip wore a guilty expression, like he knew he shouldn't be pawning his brother off on Mickey but he had no choice. "Just go over there and make sure he's okay. I'm thinking they probably had some sort of argument and Ian's all bent out of shape over it. He's pulled this shit before. When you left town last year, he didn't get out of bed for two weeks. You know Ian, he's so fucking dramatic sometimes."

Mickey felt a stabbing sensation in his chest. Ian hadn't been dramatic, Mickey had ripped his heart out.

"If anything is really wrong, just call me and I'll go over there tomorrow night after my exams. I'll text you the address."

Mickey shook his head, throwing a few bucks on the bar. "Don't bother. I know where the place is, I've been there before."

Lip looked at him, surprised. Then, he pulled out his phone. "Give me your number. We'll touch base tomorrow."

But Mickey brushed past him. "I'll get your number from Ian if I need to. Otherwise, assume everything's fine." Mickey walked out the door leaving an apprehensive Lip in his wake.

 

When Brian opened the door, it was clear from his expression that Mickey's was not the face he expected to see on the other side. He looked shocked and then annoyed. "What are you doing here?"

Without waiting to be invited in, Mickey shoved past the other man into the apartment. "His brother asked me to check on him. Where is he?"

Brian closed the door before facing Mickey. "He's in bed. Been there for the past week. Mickey, his family has got to come get him."

"Chill the fuck out. If I need to get his siblings over here, I will. Where's the bedroom?"

Mickey followed Brian down a hallway. At the end of the hallway was a closed door. Brian opened the door and gestured for Mickey to go inside. "He's all yours."

The room was dark, the shades drawn. Mickey spotted Ian in the bed. He was naked, covered only by a thin sheet that was bunched down low on his hips. He lay on his side, facing away from the door. Mickey immediately felt the urge to cover Ian up because he looked so vulnerable and exposed laying there, that flimsy fucking sheet barely covering his ass.

Mickey made his way to the other side of the bed and knelt beside it. "Ian?"

Ian's eyes remained closed as he croaked out a soft response. "Go away."

Mickey bit his lip, worry pooling in his chest. "Ian, it's Mickey. Are you okay?"

Ian's eyes slowly opened. "Mick?" His voice sounded weak.

Mickey put a hand on the other boy's cheek. "Feeling sick or something?"

Ian flinched at his touch and Mickey immediately pulled his hand away. "Please just leave me alone." Ian's eyes slid shut.

Mickey felt his heartbeat quicken. This wasn't Ian being dramatic. Something was definitely wrong with him. Mickey pulled the sheet up past Ian's shoulders and stood up. Brian was standing in the doorway, waiting for him with an expectant look on his face. Mickey made his way out of the room and shut the door. He had not been expecting to see Ian in that state and he was rattled. He looked at the other man accusingly. "What the fuck did you do to him?"

Brian took a step back, clearly intimidated by Mickey. "Nothing!"

"Something must have happened!" Mickey was trying hard to keep his cool even though he wanted to punch a hole in the wall or Brian's face, whichever was closer.

Brian put his hands in the air in a placating gesture. "I swear nothing happened. I mean, we did have an argument but we made up, we had sex. Morning comes and he won't get out of bed or talk to me. He's just been lying there ever since."

Mickey remembered what Lip had said about Ian staying in bed for two weeks after he had skipped town. But Ian couldn't have been like this, could he? Surely, Lip would have mentioned it if Ian was barely talking or opening his eyes.

Brian appeared agitated. "Look, I don't mean to be an asshole but you need to get his family over here. They need to take him home today. I have a shit ton of work that I'm behind on. They've been dodging my calls and it's not right. He's not my responsibility."

It took everything inside Mickey not to punch the guy in the jaw. Instead, he shook his head and spoke through gritted teeth. "Just shut the fuck up. I'll take him home with me."

A flash of jealousy and possessiveness passed over Brian's features but only for a moment and then a look of relief washed over him. He even fucking grinned at Mickey as he clapped his hands together. "Good, great. You'll take him now?"

Mickey nodded. "Yeah. You got a car or something?"

"You want me to drive you?"

"How else you expect me to get him home? God, you're fucking useless, man." Brian looked offended but stayed silent. Mickey reached for the door. "Help me get him outta bed."

The two men entered the room. Mickey walked over to Ian. "Ian, you gotta get up."

The redhead mumbled something unintelligible and rolled away from Mickey.

Brian handed Mickey a small pile of neatly folded clothes from one of his drawers. "Here's a pair of my pajamas. He can wear them for the ride home."

Mickey took the pajamas. They were some kind of flannel pants and a coordinating long-sleeve tee shirt. They were much softer than any pajamas Mickey had ever owned. Man, he hated this rich fucker and all his fancy shit.

Mickey turned back to Ian and spoke in a firmer voice. "You gotta get up, man." 

Mickey pulled Ian up by one arm and Ian was surprisingly pliant. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and looked at Mickey, appearing groggy. "Where we going?"

Mickey slid the tee shirt over Ian's head. "My place."

Ian's eyes were suddenly huge with fear. "But . . . your dad?"

"He ain't there, remember?"

Ian nodded, looking a little confused but less tense. Brian handed Mickey a pair of Ian's underwear. Mickey was trying to think of a way to maneuver Ian into his underwear without Brian seeing him naked before he realized how ridiculous he was being. Ian had been fucking the guy for the past couple months, clearly Ian's dick wouldn't be a new sight to him. Yet, despite any logical thinking, Mickey felt a strong urge to hide Ian's body from the other man. "Go get your car and I'll meet you out front."

Brian nodded, looking relieved to be getting out of the room. And then Mickey and Ian were alone. Mickey managed to get Ian into his underwear and pants fairly easily. And then he quickly spotted the redhead's worn out sneakers peeking out from under the bed. Once Ian was completely dressed, Mickey sighed, relieved. "Alright, tough guy, let's get the fuck out of here."

Luckily, Ian was able to mostly carry his own weight through the apartment and down the elevator to the lobby. Ian was a little wobbly so Mickey kept a grip on one of his elbows, guiding and steadying him.

It wasn't until he was sitting with Ian in the backseat of Brian's car that he realized that he hadn't taken any of Ian's stuff. Fuck it, he thought, Ian could always go back for it later.

They reached the Milkovich house and Mickey led Ian to his bedroom, wishing he had washed his sheets more recently. The messy room was such a sharp contrast to the meticulously neat and clean bedroom he had just been in. The redhead didn't seem to mind, however. He slid right under the sheets, his eyes immediately slipping shut. Still, Mickey felt a pang as he wished he could give Ian nicer things like Brian could.

The two men stepped out of the room and Mickey shut the door. Brian played with his fingers ackwardly. "Listen, Mickey, once Ian's, you know, back on his feet or whatever, I'd appreciate it if you could let him know that I'm done. I mean, he's a sweet guy and we had fun together but I'm not up for all this . . ." He gestured towards the door.

Mickey shook his head in disgust. "And I'd appreciate it if you could get the fuck outta my face before I break your nose. You know what? Fuck it." Mickey's fist collided with Brian's nose with a sickening crack before Brian's entire face was covered in blood. Mickey hadn't punched anyone in over a year and he had to admit that it felt pretty good.

Brian appeared stunned. "Fuck!" He held his hands to his face and immediately started walking quickly to the door. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled by his hands. "I'll put his stuff in the mail this week." And then he was gone.

After Brian left, the house was silent. Mickey wished that Mandy was home because she and Ian had always been really close and Mickey was pretty clueless about how to go about comforting someone.

Mickey reached into his pocket and pulled out Ian's cell phone, the only possession of Ian's that Mickey had thought to take with them. There were a ton of missed calls and unread texts from the past week. Some were from Mickey but most were from Lip. Mickey sighed deeply before hitting the "call back" button, calling one of the last people he ever hoped to ask help from.

Lip answered on the first ring. "Ian?"

"Guess again."

"Mickey, is that you?"

"No wonder they call you a genius. Listen, we got a problem."

 

Lip showed up around midnight. Mickey never thought he would feel so happy to see that asshole. Mandy had been home for a couple hours and neither she or Mickey had been able to get Ian to say more than two or three words to them. Mickey was growing increasingly panicked.

Lip and Mickey nodded to each other in greeting as Lip removed his coat and scarf, depositing them on the back of the couch. "How is he?"

Mickey tried to keep his voice steady. "He's just sleeping. I tried to get him up."

"Yeah, so did I." Mandy piped in.

Lip nodded. "Where is he?"

Mickey led him to his bedroom and opened the door. Lip hesitated a moment before entering the room. Mickey stood in the doorway as Lip approached his brother. He knelt beside the bed, just as Mickey had done earlier at Brian's apartment. He put a hand through Ian's hair, his palm coming to rest against the back of Ian's head, and leaned in close so that their faces were inches apart. And then Lip began speaking to him in a voice so low that Mickey couldn't make out any of the words.

Mickey observed Lip with fascination. This boy in front of him was nothing like the smug, condescending prick that Mickey had always known Lip to be. Lip was looking at his brother with such tenderness and concern that, for the first time, it occurred to Mickey that maybe he wasn't the only one to hide his true self under an armor of protection.

Because of Ian's position on the bed, Mickey couldn't tell if he was talking or not. But then slowly, the redhead reached over and leaned against his brother, who quickly enveloped him in his arms. And Mickey could tell from the way Ian's body shook, Lip's hand gently rubbing up and down his back, that Ian was crying. And that scared the shit out of Mickey. But what scared him even more was the look on Lip's face.

Mickey turned away from the brothers and left the room because things had turned very intimate and he felt like he was intruding. He grabbed a beer from the kitchen. Mandy was there too and they looked at each other but neither of them spoke.

A few minutes later, they heard the bedroom door close and then Lip was beside them. He looked exhausted. Mickey played with his beer bottle and raised his eyebrows at Lip expectantly. "What did he say? What's wrong with him?"

Lip let out a deep breath, seeming to choose his words carefully. "Not sure what's going on."

"But you've seen him like this before, right? After I left town?"

Lip shook his head. "No, I've never seen him like this."

There was silence for a moment. Mickey felt itchy all over, like he needed something from Lip, some kind of reassurance that Ian would be okay. After all, Lip was not only Ian's older brother but some kind of genius, as well. "Do you think something happened with that piece of shit boyfriend of his?" Mickey felt his hands tensing around the beer bottle. He'd kill that prick if he had done anything to hurt Ian.

Lip shrugged, wrapping his scarf around his neck. "Probably. But that would have just been what set him off. There's more than that going on." Lip headed toward the door. "I have two exams tomorrow. I have to do well or I could lose my scholarship. I can't fuck them up." 

Mickey nodded and opened the door for Lip. A gust of cold air blew in causing Mickey to shiver.

Lip walked out the door but paused at the front stoop, turning to face Mickey again. "After my exams, I'll talk to Fiona. We'll figure out what to do. We'll come by tomorrow night. Until then, try not to leave him alone too long."

Mickey nodded again. Lip bit his lip, looking hesitant to leave Ian behind but then raised a hand. "Later, man." And then he turned and left, leaving Mickey and Mandy to look at each other in bewilderment.

 

After Lip left, Mickey brushed his teeth and washed his face. After he exited the bathroom, he peered into the darkness of his bedroom. Just then, Mandy passed by. "You go." He said, his voice hoarse.

Mandy leaned against the wall. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Mickey gestured to his bedroom. "You sleep with him. I'll take the couch."

The disappointment was clear on Mandy's face. "All this time that you've been back, you've been trying to convince him that you care about him. Now's your chance. Go show him."

Mickey shook his head. "I can't."

"Why not?"

Mickey looked away, feeling his face redden. "Don't know how." And it was the truth. Mickey didn't know how to comfort someone with touch or words like Lip had done just a few minutes prior. The only way that Mickey knew how to be intimate with Ian was with sex and he really doubted that Ian would appreciate a blow job at the moment.

Mandy touched his arm. "Mick, it's Ian. You know him so well. Just think about what he would like. What would make him feel good." And then Mandy walked into the bathroom, leaving Mickey no choice but to face his fear.

Mickey entered the room and closed the door gently. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dark and he could see Ian laying there, still on his side facing the wall. Mickey took a deep breath, lifted the covers, and slid in next to him.

Mickey was suddenly grateful that Ian was completely covered up by Brian's pajamas because the last thing he wanted was for Ian to think he wanted something from him. Mickey counted to three in his mind before reaching an arm out and slowly laying it across Ian's chest, his hand coming to rest on Ian's. Mickey felt Ian tense for a moment but Mickey held on, lacing his fingers with Ian's and then the other boy relaxed.

Mickey was starting to relax too. Ian was acting like someone else and he was wearing someone else's pajamas but he still smelled like himself, felt like himself. He felt right in Mickey's arms. Maybe Mandy was right: maybe he could do this. Mickey pulled Ian closer and spoke softly into his ear. "It's okay, Ian. I'm here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear what you guys think of the story so far!


	8. Dark Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for all the comments and kudos that this story has received. I appreciate every single one of them. You guys are awesome. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Mickey had never considered that he and Gallagher would have a future. He had never really allowed himself to consider much of anything with regards to Ian. From the time that they fucked that first time in Mickey's bedroom until that terrible morning, years later, when Mickey had been sure they were going to die horribly together, Mickey had only lived in the moment when it came to Ian Gallagher.

The day after Mickey brought the redhead home from Brian's apartment turned out to be the scariest day of Mickey's life so far. And that was saying a lot because most of the days that made up Mickey's short life involved being afraid in some capacity.

Ian would not get out of bed. He refused to eat or even drink a sip of water. He wouldn't talk to Mickey or Mandy. He didn't move, not even to switch positions in bed. He just laid there. Sometimes his eyes were open and sometimes they were closed. Sometimes tears rolled down onto the pillow. But he never wiped them away or blew his nose.

Lip had told Mickey not to leave him alone so Mickey didn't. He called out sick at the diner and sat on a chair beside the bed, watching him, for hours. He didn't smoke or look at his phone or have a beer. He just watched him. For the first time in his life, he allowed himself to think about Ian, to feel for Ian. And, sitting there in that dark quiet room, there was no longer any doubt in his mind that what he felt was love.

 

Mandy came into the room in the late afternoon, after getting home from work. She glanced at Ian and then at Mickey. "Was busy today. Manager was pissed that you called out."

Mickey only shrugged in response.

"I brought food. Enough for both of you."

Mickey nodded.

Mandy put a hand on his shoulder. "He'll be okay."

His voice was hoarse from lack of use as he allowed himself to be pulled into his sister's embrace. "Better be."

 

Lip and Fiona showed up that night with Liam in Fiona's arms. Mickey couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor kid, constantly being dragged around to unpleasant and inappropriate situations. Fiona sat him down in front of the TV and turned to Mickey. "How is he?"

Mickey frowned. "Worse than yesterday. At least yesterday he was talking a little. Today he won't respond to me at all."

Lip and Fiona exchanged a look that Mickey couldn't read. Then, they went into Mickey's bedroom, closing the door behind them. Mickey joined Liam on the couch. The little boy smiled at him and Mickey smiled back. Then, the preschooler's attention returned to the TV.

Lip and Fiona emerged a few minutes later. Mickey stood up anxiously. "Did he talk to you?"

Lip shook his head. He approached Mickey and glanced at Liam before lowering his voice. "We think he might be Bipolar, like our mom."

"Bi - what? What the fuck is that?"

"It's a mental illness. People get really high but then really depressed."

The words "mental illness" both stunned and terrified Mickey. He felt his eyes get teary. But then he wiped them with the back of his hand and steadied himself. "Okay. What do I need to do? How do I make him better?"

Lip was looking at Mickey carefully, like he was trying to solve a puzzle. "There's not really much we can do at this point. I think we should give it a couple more days. See if there's any improvement. If not, he may have to be hospitalized."

Mickey looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean hospitalized? Like a psych ward?"

Lip nodded somberly. "It probably wouldn't be for that long. Just to get him diagnosed and put on some type of medication."

Mickey nodded, his head was spinning with all this new information.

Fiona stepped forward. "Listen, Mickey, we should take him home. Lip and I talked earlier and we found a way to work our schedules so that he won't be left alone."

Mickey shook his head. "No, you don't need to do that. I can handle it."

Mandy put a hand on Mickey's arm. "Maybe Fiona's right, Mick. This is a lot for you."

"You can visit him every day." Said Fiona.

"No, I can take care of him. He can be here. I want him here." Mickey was trying to stay calm but his voice was sounding increasingly desperate.

Lip and Fiona looked at each other. It was at that moment that Mickey noticed how awful they both looked. Fiona's eyes were red and wet while Lip just looked completely exhausted and worried. 

Fiona raised her eyebrows and Lip shrugged before turning back to Mickey. "Okay. But call us if anything changes. And just a couple more days. We can't let this go on any longer than that."

Mickey nodded, letting go of the breath he had been holding. Relief washed over him. They weren't taking Ian away.

 

The second day, Mickey was determined to get Ian to drink. It was morning and he had just called out sick at the diner for the second day in a row. It was entirely possible that he would be fired but Mickey hoped he wouldn't be.

The room was stuffy. Mickey cracked open the window before looking at the bed. Ian remained in the same position as the previous day. He had pulled the blanket up right under his chin. Mickey sat down in the chair next to the bed. "Ian, look at me."

Mickey was surprised when Ian's eyes slowly fluttered open. He looked at Mickey.

"You gotta have some water. I can't let you go any longer without drinking. So sit up."

Ian continued to look at him but made no effort to move. Mickey slowly pulled the blanket lower on Ian's body before wrapping a hand around his arm and pulling him into a sitting position. Ian wobbled slightly and Mickey tried to steady him. "You okay?"

"Dizzy."

Mickey froze. It was the first word Ian had spoken in over twenty-four hours. Mickey swallowed, trying to control his emotions. Ian put a hand to his forehead. Mickey kept one hand on Ian's shoulder and reached for the glass of water with the other. He held it in front of Ian. "Just take a sip."

Ian lifted his head from his hands and rubbed his eyes. He was blinking a lot, as if his eyes were having difficulty adjusting to being open. He looked at Mickey and then at the glass. His forehead crinkled into a frown.

Mickey brought the glass to his lips. "Come on, Ian. You can do this. Just a little."

Ian looked apprehensive. Then, he leaned over and put his lips to the glass. Mickey tilted the glass slightly and water slowly dribbled into Ian's mouth.

"That's it, Ian."

Ian drank slowly at first but then his hand was over Mickey's, tilting the glass in an almost desperate way and he started gulping the liquid down. It was as if the dribble of water had awakened some deep thirst within him that his brain hadn't been processing. Soon, he had water dripping down his chin.

Mickey steadied the glass with his other hand. "Easy. Not too much too fast." Mickey pulled the glass away as Ian began to cough, choking on the water. Mickey put a hand on his back. "You okay?"

Ian nodded as the coughing subsided. Then, the redhead laid back down, pulling the blanket back under his chin. He seemed to be asleep again almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Mickey watched him for a few minutes. As he headed for the door, empty glass in hand, he couldn't suppress the grin that was forming on his face.

 

That night, after Mandy had gone to bed, Mickey brought his giant GED study guide out of his room and set it down on the dining room table. Mickey grabbed a cup of coffee and got to work. He had tried to sleep but all he kept thinking about was how Lip and Fiona would be coming for Ian the next day. Mickey's victory with the water just wasn't enough. He knew that Ian's siblings would want to take him to the hospital.

Mickey didn't necessarily disagree with them. He just wished that he could have been enough to get Ian better. He hated the idea of Ian in some psych ward with no one who cared about him looking out for him. Healthy Ian was tough and could take care of himself but sick Ian was totally defenseless and vulnerable. Imagining Ian in one of those places, where Mickey would have no way of contacting him and making sure he was okay, scared the crap out of him. So, unable to sleep anyway, he decided he may as well be productive and get some studying done.

After about an hour or so, Mickey heard footsteps approaching from down the hall. Then, he heard the sound of the refrigerator opening and closing. And then a chair scraping over the floor. With a sigh, Mickey finally looked up to find Iggy seated beside him. He had a beer in his hand and, when he made eye contact with Mickey, he slid a beer to his brother.

They looked at each other a moment before Mickey broke the silence. "What's up?

Iggy gestured toward Mickey's closed bedroom door. "Why's Gallagher here?"

Mickey felt his heartbeat quicken. Mickey had known the risk he was taking when he had made the decision to bring Ian home with him. But Iggy was seeing some girl and hadn't been spending many nights at home so Mickey had hoped maybe he wouldn't notice Ian. "He's a friend and he needed a place to crash."

"Bullshit. Why's he here, Mick?"

"It's not bullshit." Mickey picked up his pencil and resumed his studying, hoping his brother would drop it.

Iggy grabbed his hand and held it against the paper, stopping him from writing. "Are you fucking him?"

Mickey kept his eyes on the book. Images of Terry beating the shit out of him and Ian flashed through his mind. He fought to keep his voice steady. "That's none of your fucking business."

Iggy nodded, releasing his hand. "Alright. I guess I'll have to go ask him."

Iggy stood and started to walk towards Mickey's bedroom but Mickey stood and grabbed him roughly by the arm. "Stay away from him."

The two stared at each other. Mickey's heart was beating through his chest. Did Iggy know? Mickey didn't know how his brother would react. And Mickey cared about Iggy but he would do whatever it took to protect Ian if it came to that. "Nothing's going on."

Iggy pulled his arm out of Mickey's grasp and stormed out the front door.

 

The third day, Mickey didn't want to get out of bed. He knew that Lip and Fiona would be coming for Ian. So he just sat there, smoking, staring at the ceiling, listening to Ian breath, feeling the warmth of the other boy's body even though their bodies weren't actually touching, until there was a knock on the door.

Mandy walked in after a moment even though Mickey hadn't responded to the knock. They looked at each other for a moment. "I knew you were awake because I smelled the smoke."

"Good for you."

"You gotta go to work today or your ass is gonna be fired."

"Don't fucking care."

"Yeah, you do. I'm off today. I'll stay with him."

Mickey looked down at the redhead asleep beside him. He hated to leave him. He was pretty sure that, if he went to work, Ian would be gone by the time he got home. Lip and Fiona would likely spirit him off to some mental hospital where Mickey wouldn't even be able to visit him. But Mandy was right: he would surely be fired if he called out a third day in a row. Without Mickey's paycheck, he and his siblings could lose their house. And without a house, Mickey would be unable to care for Ian anyway. So he resigned himself to the fact that he needed to go to work. With a sigh, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.

 

Work was more unpleasant than usual. Most days, it was mind numbingly boring. But this day was worse. Because he had called out the previous two days, his co-workers had been forced to work twice as hard so they were all pissed at him. But he barely noticed their glares or his manager's scowl. While Mickey's body had gone to work, his mind never left his bed and the redhead laying on it.

As he cleared and set tables and scrubbed filthy glasses and plates, Ian occupied his every thought. Would Mandy be patient enough to get him to drink or would she give up too quickly? Would Mandy know to keep offering him food even if he refused every time? Was Ian still at his house or had his siblings already taken him?

Mickey's hands itched to pull out his phone and call his sister but he didn't. The fear in his gut kept him from it. If Ian was gone, Mickey needed to find out in his own house, where he could deal with the news in the privacy of his room.

Mickey reminded himself that Lip had said it would likely be a short stay, just to get Ian stable and on medication. But nothing comforted him. The idea of Ian being sick and away from Mickey was just unbearable. So he did his job and occasionally, he was so distracted that he let the water get too hot and he burned his hands. And he didn't get the plates as clean as he was supposed to.

Nothing in Mickey's life had ever turned out any other way than the worst way possible. And so, of course, it made sense that Ian, what Mickey wanted more than anything else in the world, would be no different. Mickey had accepted this from the moment he and Ian had first fucked. And yet, while Mickey had never allowed himself to think about a future with Ian before, the thought of any alternate future was suddenly unbearable.

 

Mickey took his time getting home from work. He stopped at the Kash N Grab for some cigarettes and beer. He knew he would need a six pack to make it through the night. He approached the house expecting it to be dark and silent. To his surprise, all the lights were on. He took a deep breath and opened the front door.

It was bright and loud. Way louder than the Milkovich house usually was. Mickey looked around, noticing several Gallaghers, as well as Mandy. Why were they looking at him like that? Mickey continued to scan the room, bewildered, when his eyes were suddenly drawn to red. And then Mickey nearly dropped his bags when his brain processed the image of Ian Gallagher standing in his kitchen, drinking a beer and looking right back at him.

Mickey lowered the bags to the floor right where he was standing before taking several strides into the kitchen. He pulled a surprised Ian into his arms, his entire body trembling. "Thank fucking God. Thank fucking God."


	9. I Want to Talk About Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My holiday gift to you: another dark chapter! I promise things will get better for our boys. Happy holidays!!

The high of seeing Ian on his feet again was relatively short lived because, almost immediately after taking the redhead into his arms, things got awkward. Ian didn't hug back. Just stood stiffly in his arms. Why didn't he hug back?

Mickey let go of Ian and looked at his face. His expression was a mixture of confusion and surprise. The house, which had been bursting with voices just a moment before, was suddenly silent. Ian's siblings were all watching the interaction, surprised to see a Milkovich showing affection and curious to see their brother's reaction. Unfortunately, Ian didn't have much of one. Finally, Mickey broke the silence. "You're up."

Ian nodded. He may have been out of bed but he still looked exhausted. His hair was greasy and he was still in those fucking pajamas. He was thinner than Mickey had ever seen him.

Lip came over and swung an arm around his little brother's bony shoulders. "We gotta get some food in you to go along with that beer."

Ian nodded. "Okay." It was the first word Mickey had heard him say. His voice sounded weak. Now that he got a good look at him, Ian appeared dazed.

Mandy took Ian's hand and pulled him over to one of the kitchen chairs. "Sit, honey. You want a sandwich?" Mickey had never heard his sister refer to anyone as "honey" before. Gallagher really could bring out the tenderness in anyone.

Ian shook his head.

"You gotta eat, sweetheart." Fiona said.

"Make him some toast." Lip suggested.

Mickey sat down at the table across from Ian. He nursed a beer and watched everyone fuss over the other boy. He couldn't help thinking that this was probably the most attention Ian had gotten his whole damn life, agreeable little middle child that he was.

 

Mickey's gaze rarely left Ian for the next couple hours. He kept hoping to make eye contact but the other boy wouldn't look at him. Ian ate some of the toast and responded to his family's questions with mostly one word answers.

It was nearing midnight when Ian ran a hand through his hair. "I should shower. I stink." He said, sniffing under his arm.

Fiona was at his side immediately. "You ready to go home?"

Mickey felt his insides twist. He knew this was coming. But Mandy reacted swiftly. "Ian should stay here. At least for tonight. I mean, it's late and cold outside."

Fiona and Lip exchanged a look before Fiona responded. "I think it's time for Ian to come home."

This time Mandy addressed Ian. She knelt in front of him, taking his hands. "Come on, Ian. You can sleep in my room with me. It'd be like old times."

Mandy smiled at Ian but he looked with uncertainty to his older siblings. Lip shrugged. "Whatever you want, Ian."

Mandy continued to smile at Ian, her hands coming to rest of his knees. "Come on, we'll cuddle!"

Finally, Ian smiled. But it was tiny, a shadow of the real Ian smile. Mickey's heart broke a little seeing it. "Okay."

Mandy laughed and, when no one was looking, winked at Mickey. As if there had ever been a doubt who she had done that for.

 

It took forever for Ian's family to leave. It was obvious that it was difficult for them to leave Ian behind. Lip and Debbie seemed particularly torn up by it. At one point, on his way to the bathroom, Mickey overheard Lip talking to Fiona. "I'd push for Ian to come home but, I mean, I won't even be there most of the time."

Fiona nodded. "I feel the same. I've been working long hours and I can barely keep track of Debs and Carl."

Lip bit his lip. "Still, I hate seeing him in this fucking house. And I don't want him around Mickey."

"He got him away from that other jerk."

Lip shrugged. "Lesser of two evils still isn't good enough. Ian deserves better."

Mickey had heard enough. He stepped away and made himself busy in the kitchen. Lip's words had stung. And it was upsetting to know that Lip was going to try to keep he and Ian apart because the brothers were close and Ian idolized Lip. At least, he used to. There were so many things about Ian that Mickey no longer knew. The boy who was once an open book was now a locked diary, a few pages slipping out and revealing themselves every so often.

The Gallaghers walked single file out of the house, each saying goodbye to Ian as they passed through the threshold of the front door like some kind of fucked up receiving line. Mickey watched from the kitchen, where he was polishing off his third beer of the evening.

Eventually, Lip was the only remaining Gallagher, not counting Ian, and the two brothers embraced quickly before Lip put a firm hand on Ian's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You sure you wanna be here? Because you can stay with me in my dorm. My roommate's cool - pretty sure he won't mind."

Ian smiled - another small, pathetic one. "I'm okay."

Lip smirked. "You sure? Lots of hot college boy ass to be had."

Ian shook his head. "Nah, not really up for all that right now. But thanks."

Lip nodded. Suddenly, he looked over Ian's shoulder, making eye contact with Mickey. The two boys stared at each other a moment before Mickey nodded slowly at him, as if to send a silent message that he would take care of him. That Ian was safe. Lip seemed to understand because he nodded back before embracing his brother one more time and then disappearing through the door.

 

And then it was just Ian, Mickey and Mandy. Fortunately, Iggy had fucked off somewhere and Mickey was relieved to have one less thing to worry about. Ian took his shower while Mickey and Mandy cleaned up a little.

After he and Mandy were satisfied that they had straightened up enough for the night, they headed toward the bedrooms. Mickey dug through his drawers looking for clothes that would be big enough for Ian. He finally settled on some sweat pants and a tee shirt. Mickey brought them to Mandy. "He can sleep in these. Those pajamas he's been wearing have got to be rancid by now."

Mandy nodded. Mickey turned to leave and then stopped, turning back to his sister. "And thanks. For getting him to stay."

"Sure." She said softly. And then he turned away because there was so much pain in her eyes and he couldn't bear to see another person he loved suffering.

 

Mickey awoke early the next morning. He had been exhausted but he hadn't slept well. He had missed the warmth of Ian's body beside him. He had slept alone in that bed for nearly twenty years and been fine with it. But after only a few nights with Ian in his arms, sleeping alone was almost unbearable.

Mickey walked quietly into the living room where Mandy and Ian were cuddled together on the couch. The sight of Ian startled Mickey for a moment. The combination of his skinny frame and grown out hair made him resemble the fifteen year old version of himself that Mickey had first become infatuated with.

Ian and Mandy looked at him as he sat on the couch across from them. He made eye contact with Ian. "You sleep okay?"

Ian nodded, slowly disentangling himself from Mandy's arms. "Yeah. Still really tired though."

Mickey watched as the younger boy sat up, rubbing his eyes. When he stretched, his tee shirt lifted, revealing a line of pale skin underneath and Mickey felt his body respond. Even sick, Ian was beautiful.

Ian tried and failed to suppress a yawn before rubbing his eyes again. "Fuck, I'm so damn tired."

Mandy touched his arm. "It's been a rough couple weeks."

Ian sighed. "I've got so much shit I gotta straighten out." Realization appeared on his face and he was suddenly panicked. "God, if I get fired, I'm screwed. Fiona needs the money."

Seeing Ian so stressed was making Mickey uneasy. "You gotta relax, Ian."

Ian shook his head, running his hands through his hair anxiously. "God, I really fucked up this time. What the hell am I gonna do?"

Ian had tears in his eyes and Mickey couldn't take anymore. He reached across and put a hand on Ian's knee. "Stop. Whatever you need, I'll take care of it. Just relax."

Ian looked at Mickey with that same mixture of confusion and surprise that he had when Mickey had hugged him the night before. His lips parted as if to say something but then he just looked at him, head tilted slightly to one side and forehead creased in a little frown.

Suddenly, Mandy stood. "I gotta get ready for work. You coming, Mick?"

Mickey shook his head. "Got assigned the later shit today."

Mandy nodded before heading to the bathroom.

Once Mandy was out of sight, Mickey immediately moved to the other couch, sitting right beside Ian, who seemed a little overwhelmed, backing away from Mickey towards the end of the couch. Mickey tried to ignore it. "Ian, what happened between you and Brian? He said you got into a fight right before you . . . ." Mickey trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence.

"I don't really wanna talk about this, Mick."

"I just need to know what got you so upset."

"It was nothing, I just . . . I just realized he didn't care about me. You and Mandy were right."

"But, I mean, something must have happened for you to . . . something had to have happened."

"He wanted me to fuck his friend." 

Mickey's eyes grew wide. "Jesus Christ!"

"I didn't do it! Fuck, I said don't wanna talk about this shit. Can't you just leave it alone?"

"I'm just worried about you. I wanna understand what happened so it doesn't happen again. If that bastard hurt you, I'm gonna fucking kill him."

"Jesus, Mickey, you used to barely say a word and now I can't get you to shut the fuck up!" Ian ran shaky hands through his messy hair, frustrated. When he finally looked up at Mickey, Ian saw that Mickey was grinning and it didn't take long for the corners of his mouth to start to lift. In another moment, Ian wore a full grin and it wasn't the forced, pathetic smile he had given to his family the night before. It was a genuine Ian grin.

"Sorry, I don't wanna push you, man. I just want you to be okay."

Ian nodded, his grin fading. He looked like he wanted to say something but then was silent.

Mickey bit his lip before turning to make sure Mandy wasn't anywhere nearby. "I wanted to talk to you, actually. Wanted to last night but there were too many people around. And you seemed kind of out of it anyway."

Ian looked suspicious. He was frowning. "Talk to me about what?"

"About us."

And then Ian was definitely frowning. He tried to move away from Mickey but his back was already against the arm of the couch. "Mickey, there is no us anymore."

Mickey tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his belly. "I know I fucked up but I care about you and I want you back."

"You care about me?" Ian's voice was flat.

Mickey was getting flustered. He was terrible at expressing himself and Ian sure wasn't making it any easier on him. He struggled to think of how to make Ian understand. "Look, I know you're still pissed about before and you've got a right to be. But if you give me another chance, it'll be different. I'm different."

Ian looked away from Mickey. He shook his head angrily before rubbing at his eyes, trying to hide the tears he was wiping away. "Fuck, Mickey. Fuck you!"

"Ian." Mickey tried to put a hand on Ian's shoulder but the redhead pulled away.

Head still in his hands, Ian breathed deeply, calming himself before looking at Mickey. "When you left, I was so depressed. All I did was miss you and worry about you. I thought about you every minute. I texted you and called you a million times a day and you never responded and it fucking killed me but I kept doing it because I was so damn sure that you loved me and you wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with you.

One morning, I went with Carl to the grocery store because Fiona was killing herself working extra shifts at the diner and Lip was busy packing for college. And as I'm pushing my cart down the frozen food section, I find myself face to face with your fucking dad."

Mickey can't help but flinch at the mention of his father. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. So Ian continues.

"He starts threatening me, saying he knows that I know where you are and that he's gonna kill me if I don't tell him. And I told him that I don't know where you are but he doesn't believe me. He starts calling me all these horrible names and describing these vile, disgusting things he's gonna do to me. And the whole time, Carl is right there listening. He's hearing everything. Fuck, Mickey, he didn't even know I was gay."

Ian's voice breaks and he puts a hand to his lips as if trying to steady himself. Then, he looks back at Mickey. "Finally, security threw your dad out. And I was so fucking relieved that he didn't hurt my brother or kill me in front of him. But then after that relief, I felt something else. This certainty. I just knew that you didn't love me. Because, if you did, you could never have left me behind like that. You ran away from your dad and left me behind to deal with him all on my own. You left me to take the fall for you."

Ian's voice was suddenly the strongest it had been since he gotten out of bed the previous day. "Mick, I could never take you back after what you did to me. We're done."

They looked at each other a moment before Ian got up and walked back to Mandy's room, leaving Mickey alone on the couch. He could barely breath. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think of the story so far?


	10. Losing Myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year! Thanks again to everyone who has been supporting this fic. I hope you all have your best year ever! :)

Ian sat in the waiting room on an uncomfortable metal folding chair. As the receptionist called out yet another name that wasn't his, Ian shoved his shaking hands under his thighs and tried not to look at the crazy people all around him.

This is so bad. This is so bad. This is so bad. I'm so scared. I'm so scared. I'm so scared.

This was his worst nightmare. That's why he had been in denial, pretending everything was fine as the months went by and he slowly lost his mind. He had thought that losing Mickey was the absolute most painful thing he could endure but this was so much worse. This was losing himself.

A couple years back, he'd seen a TV news segment about a woman diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's and how she coped with the diagnosis. And Ian had been struck by how absolutely terrifying that must have been for her, knowing that her mind was deteriorating, losing more of herself with each passing day. That was how Ian felt sitting in that waiting room. Like he had been handed a fate worse than death. He was surely losing himself. Where would he end up? A mental institution, prison, a nursing home, homeless on the street? That was where crazy people lived. Crazy people had no family because their families abandoned them, unable or unwilling to cope with the difficulties. Like Ian and his siblings had done to Monica.

God, he had fallen so far. And the ironic part was that he was higher than he had ever been right before. That summer with Mickey: Mickey and him flirting at the Kash N Grab. Mickey jealous of Ned. Mickey kissing him in the van. And that sleepover. That amazing night where Ian and Mickey were finally boyfriends. Real boyfriends. Watching a movie on the couch. Fucking that night in a bed for the first time since the very first time. All of Mickey's attention on him. Mickey looking at him with total adoration, for once not hiding it from his eyes or voice. It was the first time that Ian felt true and complete happiness. And then the morning came and Ian lost everything. Or, at least, he thought that at the time.

The receptionist called his name just as his eyes were filling with tears. He stood, roughly swiping the wetness from his eyes with the back of his hand. She led him to a small dingy room and he sat in another cheap chair, plastic this time. He looked at the ground and focused on the grime collecting where the floor met the wall. He shifted uncomfortably in the hard chair. It's not like he expected a mental health clinic to be nice.

A woman in a white coat entered the room and sat at a desk in front of him. She read his name off a paper in front of her. "Ian Gallagher. What brings you to us today?"

He took a deep breath. "I think I'm bipolar." And then he vomited all over the floor.

 

"You've got to be kidding me." Ed was looking at Ian with a mixture of irritation and disbelief. "You walk out in the middle of your shift without a word to anyone, drop off the face of the earth for the next week and a half and you think I'm gonna give you your job back? You must be out of your mind, kid."

Ian cringed at his manager's choice of words and felt his face grow red. He almost walked out but then he thought about Debbie, Carl and Liam. They were depending on him. "I'm one of your most popular dancers. I bring in a lot of money."

"You don't bring in any money when you're not here. Sorry, Gallagher, you're just too unreliable."

"It was just that one time, though. I was sick. Won't happen again." Ed chewed on his lip, considering. "I'm the only redhead you got. A lot of guys are into that. If you don't have me, they'll go somewhere else."

"Fine. But I'm tearing up your most recent paycheck since you screwed me over."

Ian sighed. "Fine."

"And you're covering the VIP room from now on."

Ian felt a sinking feeling in his stomach and was afraid he might vomit again. He had previously avoided the VIP room. In actuality, it was several  small rooms that were reserved for only the wealthiest clients. Certain dancers who were selected to work those rooms would go in alone with the client, granting them total privacy. In theory, a bouncer would stand right outside the door, though this never actually happened. The official rules for touching were the same as elsewhere in the club. But everyone knew that sex acts took place in those rooms. Many of the dancers aspired to work the VIP rooms because the tips could be mind blowing. Ian had always refused with the rationale that he was a stripper, not a prostitute. But now he was being backed into a corner. He thought of his siblings and of the prescription burning a hole in his pocket. "Fine. But I'm not fucking anyone. And I'm not sucking anyone off either."

Ed smirked at him. "You think you're special, Gallagher? I could have another baby faced ginger in here within a week." Ian bit his cheek to silence himself because he needed this job. "You start tomorrow night."

Ian nodded, finally releasing the breath he'd been holding. 

Ed was still smirking at him. "I'll put you with some middle aged CEO's. When one of them waves a grand in front of your face, we'll see how quickly you're on your knees." 

 

It had been a really shitty day and Ian was exhausted and depressed as he knocked on the door that belonged to the last person he wanted to see. Brian answered the door with a smile on his face but it immediately faded when his eyes fell on Ian. "Shit, Ian. I didn't expect . . . are you okay?"

Ian spoke softly. "Can I come in?"

Brian's eyes grew wide. "I sort of have someone here."

Ian shrugged. "It's okay. I won't make a scene or anything. Just wanna get my stuff."

Brian seemed to consider for a moment before his eyes softened. He nodded and opened the door wider. He put a hand on Ian's shoulder, ushering him inside. "Come on."

Ian entered the apartment and saw a young man sitting at the table. There was an elaborate meal laid out. There were even candles. "Ian, this is Max."

The other man got up and approached Ian, shaking his hand eagerly. "Nice to meet you, man."

Ian studied him. The guy was young. Probably not as young as Ian, but definitely closer in age to Ian than Brian. He was tall and good looking, clean cut and expensively dressed. "You too." And then his curiosity got the better of him. "Are you an engineer too?"

Max chuckled. "God no. I'm in my first year of law school. Actually new to the city so it was great to meet Brian the other night."

Ian only nodded. He was a law student. So Brian had traded up when he had replaced him. Ian couldn't help but wonder if Brian would ever offer to share Max with his friends. Ian was pretty sure he wouldn't. Ian wondered how long Brian would wait before introducing Max to Brian's family that Ian had never met. Ian's thoughts were interrupted by Brian's voice. He was holding a duffel bag. "I actually packed all your stuff for you."

The bag was pathetically small, as it contained pretty much everything he had to his name. Ian took the bag from Brian and then the older man walked him to the door. It was only then that Ian noticed that Brian's nose was swollen and slightly crooked. "What happened to your face?"

Brian scowled, gingerly touching his nose. "Does it look bad? Do you think it's broken?"

"Yeah, it's probably broken. But you don't have to do anything about it. I mean, if it's not bothering you. You walk into a wall or something?"

"No, I didn't walk into a wall. It was Mickey. Fucking asshole punched me defending your honor."

Ian couldn't suppress the grin that broke out on his face. "Yeah, he'll do that." Ian swung the bag up onto his shoulder and looked at Brian for what he knew would be the last time. "Later, man."

 

Ian returned to the Milkovich house that evening. He had considered going back to his own house but he wasn't ready to face all the questions that he knew his family would have. 

The house was quiet as he slipped inside (the front door was always unlocked for some reason) and Ian was pretty sure he was the only one home. Ian took a quick shower before stepping into Mandy's room and looking for his pajamas. It took him a moment to realize that he had left the duffel bag with his clothes in the living room. Covered only by a small towel, Ian headed down the hall but stopped when he saw a light on in Mickey's room. He stood in the doorway.

Mickey was sitting up in bed, a fat book in front of him. He had a pencil in his hand and he was frowning in concentration. He startled when Ian spoke.

"What are you doing?"

Mickey's face immediately turned a shade of pink that Ian didn't think he had ever seen on him before. The older boy kept his eyes on the book, not looking at Ian. His voice was hesitant. "I'm uh . . . studying." Mickey started moving the pencil as if to signal to Ian that the conversation was over.

Ian was intrigued. "For what?"

Mickey finally looked up at him. His eyebrows raised in surprise at the sight of Ian's barely covered body. "Jesus, Ian. You're gonna have to stop walking around the house like that if we're not gonna be fucking anymore."

Ian shrugged. "Just got all my stuff from Brian. It's still in a bag in the living room."

Ian noticed Mickey's jaw tense. "You went to see him? Why?"

"Just to get my stuff. Pretty sure you broke his nose, by the way."

Mickey frowned. "Asshole deserved it." Then, his face softened, searching Ian's face. "You okay?"

Ian nodded. "I'm fine. So you want your GED?"

"What?" Ian pointed to the book in front of Mickey. The older boy turned pink again and shrugged in defeat. "Wasn't really planning on making an announcement about it or anything but yeah."

"That's cool, Mick."

"Fuck off."

"No, really. Good for you. Always thought you were smart as hell."

Mickey looked up at him, searching Ian's face for sarcasm or mocking. Ian just looked right back. No one had ever called Mickey smart before. After a moment, Mickey sighed. "Whatever. Don't wanna be a fucking busboy for the rest of my life." Mickey chewed his lip a moment. "Listen, I know you don't wanna talk about it and I get that you don't wanna have anything to do with me . . ."

"I didn't say that."

"I'm worried about you. I mean, what the fuck was that?"

"I'm okay." Mickey looked doubtful. "I am. A lot of shit happened all at once and I didn't handle it well but I'm okay now. Really."

Mickey was biting his lip, looking concerned. "Ian, I just . . ."

But Ian cut him off. "Anyway, thanks."

Mickey raised his eyebrows. "For what?"

Ian shrugged. "Bringing me here, taking care of me, punching Brian, all of it."

Mickey touched the back of his neck self-consciously. "Not a big fuckin deal or anything."

"It is to me." They looked at each other a moment before Mickey looked down at his book. "Goodnight, man."

 

Ian stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom. He had put his pajamas on and brushed his teeth. There was just one last thing he needed to do. He eyed the prescription bottle in front of him. He read his name on the sticker that labelled it Lithium. The sight was surreal. In all his dreams for his life, he had never imagined that sight. Ian took a deep breath and spoke softly to himself. "Here goes nothing." And then he swallowed the pill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! I'll try to get the next one posted soon.


	11. This is Your Lucky Day

Mickey Milkovich lived a life of extremes. And one thing he had learned early on was that things never went just a little bad for him. They went to complete shit. First, Ian had a breakdown, then the guy tells Mickey they're done for good. And now this.

As soon as his manager asked to speak with him, Mickey knew he was fucked. The guy never looked twice at him. Until that morning, when Mickey barely had time to get his apron on before the guy was ushering him outside and offering him a smoke. Mickey accepted it eagerly, lighting up as he mentally prepared himself for bad news.

Tommy, the manager, a middle aged bald guy with a beer belly and some serious male pattern baldness, shifted uncomfortably. "Listen, man, I feel bad about this because you've actually been a great employee, way better than I expected, to be honest."

Mickey just raised his eyebrows.

"Anyway, I gotta let you go."

"Fuck, man. Why?"

Tommy took a deep drag off his cigarette and shrugged. "Owner's brother-in-law just got out of prison and needs a job."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I'm not happy about it, either. The guy is a notorious junkie. He's going to be completely unreliable."

"Oh my heart bleeds for you. Jesus, man, I need this job!"

Tommy shrugged. "Sorry. It's out of my hands."

"Can I at least work today? Don't tell me I dragged my ass out of bed for nothing."

Tommy shook his head. "New guy will be here in an hour. I'll mail you your final paycheck."

Mickey almost lost it at that point but he controlled himself because Mandy still worked there and he didn't want to screw things up for her. If she lost her job too, they would be completely fucked.

Tommy went inside leaving Mickey alone. He kicked the cement stairs repeatedly. "Fuck!" Nothing good ever lasted.

 

A few hours later, Mickey found himself halfway to drunk at The Alibi. His inebriated state had made him chatty and he found himself sharing his sob story about being fired with Kevin, Veronica and whoever else was willing to listen. Lip Gallagher was also present, though Mickey took little notice of him until he was suddenly seated right next to him. Mickey turned to him suspiciously. "You want something?"

Lip was nursing a beer and looked pretty tired. "Why don't you get a job where Ian works?"

Mickey almost spit out his beer. "Shaking my ass for a bunch of wrinkly faggots? I don't think so." Lip grinned smugly and Mickey knew the other boy was picturing him doing just that. He wanted to punch him but finished his beer instead. 

"Not dancing, dumbass. What about security? An operation like that has got to have a big security team."

"And why the fuck would I want to work there?"

Lip eyed him knowingly. "I can't imagine a reason."

Mickey shook his head miserably. "He and I are done. He told me so himself."

Lip shrugged. "Still, you could keep an eye on him. Make sure he's okay."

"Ian can take care of himself."

Lip raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"

"You don't?"

Lip looked grim, all traces of humor gone from his face. "In his current mental state? No, I don't."

"He says he's okay now."

"You believe him?"

"I don't know, man. I don't know shit about depression or Bi - whatever the fuck it is." Lip just looked at him. Mickey sighed, setting down his drink. "I mean, he doesn't seem like himself some of the time but then other times he does."

"You wanna risk something happening to him?" Mickey just looked at him, not sure what to say. Lip drained his beer and put a few dollars on the bar. "I'm just saying that if you need a job anyway, how does it hurt to inquire if they're hiring?"

Mickey watched as Lip pulled his jacket on and twisted a scarf around his neck. As he sat finishing his beer, he thought about how well he and Ian had worked together at the Kash N Grab. He started picturing himself watching over Ian at the club, walking home with him after. The more he thought about it, the less ridiculous the idea sounded. By the time he had finished his last beer, Mickey had decided that he'd be making a trip to Boys Town that night to apply for a job.

 

Mickey walked gingerly through the club towards the bar. Even in the afternoon, when things were relatively quiet, the place made his skin crawl. Mickey stood next to the bar but didn't sit down. The bartender quickly approached. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, looking for the manager."

The bartender motioned to his left and Mickey's eyes focused on a sleazy looking guy sitting further down at the bar. He was writing in some kind of notebook. Mickey recognized him from the night he went to see Ian at work. Mickey approached him quickly. "Hey. You're the manager?"

The guy took a sip from his paper coffee cup but his eyes remained on his papers. "What do you want?"

"I'm looking for a job. Security or whatever."

"Not hiring."

"From what I've seen, you could definitely use more guys around this place."

The guy looked up at him. At first, he looked annoyed that he was being interrupted but when his eyes met Mickey's, recognition slowly crept over his face. "I remember you. You practically broke that guy's jaw after he groped one of my boys. Ian, I think it was."

Mickey felt his jaw tense in reaction to this guy referring to Ian as one of his boys. He knew it was just an expression but Mickey was territorial as hell, especially when it came to Ian. But Mickey wanted this job so he bit back the anger and nodded. "So you've seen my work."

The manager looked him over, taking in his knuckle tattoos. "It was impressive. If I hire you, you know you can't be knocking out every customer who touches your boyfriend, right?"

Mickey waved his hand dismissively. "You don't have to worry about that shit. He and I are done."

The manager raised an eyebrow. "Right. I'm Ed, by the way." 

"Mickey."

Ed didn't offer his hand to Mickey. But he did start rummaging through his paperwork, looking for something. "Well, you got lucky tonight, Mickey. Just so happens that one of my bouncers up and quit on me this morning."

Mickey nodded. "I guess it's my lucky day."

Ed chuckled. "You know Ian long?"

Mickey shrugged. "Couple years."

"He's one of our most popular dancers. Got the whole redhead thing going for him." Ed looked up at Mickey, a slimy grin on his lips. "And Ian's just a baby and you know the old queens like 'em young."

Mickey felt anger ripple through him but he stayed calm. Ed was testing him, trying to get him to lose his shit, determining whether Mickey could really handle working with Ian.

Ed continued. "I mean, he has ID saying he's eighteen so it's all legal." He winked at Mickey before letting out a little laugh and sliding some paperwork in front of him. "Fill this out and you can start tonight."

Mickey looked down at the papers in front of him and briefly wondered if he was setting himself up for something really bad. He hadn't even considered how Ian would react to him working there. But then he thought about Ian alone in that hell hole with no one looking out for him. Mickey picked up the pen and started writing.

 

 

The job was pretty much the easiest one that Mickey had ever had - way less exhausting than clearing tables and washing dishes. Since it was his first night, he was shadowing another bouncer, Roger. The guy was huge and intimidating and not the least bit friendly. There was no small talk between them, no questions. It was just how Mickey liked it.

Basically, the bouncers had a set rotation that they would do around the club. During this rotation, they would watch over the dancers and make sure no rules were being broken. As part of the rotation, each bouncer had to work the front door for a period of time. Roger complained because it was chilly out but Mickey was glad to get some fresh air.

Walking the rotation with Roger, Mickey was pretty disgusted. Most of the clients were older, wealthy looking men. Totally creepy, in Mickey's opinion. There were some younger, attractive types but Mickey couldn't figure out why they were there. Why pay for what they could clearly get for free? Mickey figured the guys must get off on the power dynamic or something. Mickey didn't really understand but he didn't really give a shit either. The groping and all that was gross but it didn't actually bother Mickey because the guys being groped weren't Ian.

Mickey hadn't seen Ian the whole night and he didn't know what Ian's reaction would be when they came face to face. He was worried that the redhead was going to be angry that Mickey had taken the job. Or maybe he wouldn't be. Ian was impossible to predict these days. However, as worried as Mickey was about what Ian's reaction to his new occupation would be, Mickey was more worried about himself. Because at some point toward the end of the night, Mickey realized that he had spent hours in a club filled with horny and half naked gay men and he had felt nothing. Mickey had it so bad for Ian that he could look at other guys but he really didn't see them. For Mickey, there was only Ian. And that scared the shit out of him.

When Mickey glanced at his watch and saw that the club was closing in thirty minutes, he finally worked up the nerve to ask Roger about Ian. The large man tilted his head in a thoughtful gesture and it looked almost comical on such a huge, hulking man. "Ian?"

Mickey's annoyance erased any amusement he had felt the moment before. "Yeah, Ian. Redhead. Tall and skinny. Come on, man, he's been working here a while. You gotta know him."

Recognition settled over the other man's features. "Okay, I know who you're talking about."

"I know he's working tonight, so where the fuck is he?"

"Boss has got him working the VIP room."

"What the fuck is the VIP room?" Mickey didn't like the sound of it at all.

Roger was looking at him funny now and Mickey realized how obvious he was being. He immediately turned defensive. "What?"

Roger chuckled. "Nothing. Just pretty obvious you got a thing for the guy. That why you took this job?"

"Shut the fuck up and tell me about this VIP room bullshit."

Roger continued to chuckle. "It's nothing. Just another part of the club. Caters to . . . a higher level of clientele."

"We don't cover it?"

"Nah, it's not part of the regular rotation. Ed has certain guys assigned. It's a privacy thing."

"What do you mean by that?"

"The guys pay more and a certain level of privacy is part of what they get. They can even access the club through a side door that's very discreet, if that's what they want."

"Why would they want that?"

Roger shrugged. "Married? Closeted? CEO of a well known company? All of the above? Who the fuck knows what's going through their minds. All that matters is that they can pay."

Mickey's intuition was telling him that Roger wasn't telling him everything but then he was distracted by the sight of his redhead making his way through the club. He was wearing his ridiculous uniform of tiny black shorts and eyeliner. Mickey was sure he would never get used to that look on Ian.

Ian seemed to spot Mickey at the same moment that Mickey spotted him and Mickey felt a warmth surge through him. And then Ian smiled at him.

Ian made his way over to him and looked him up and down, looking confused as he took in the sight of Mickey's security vest. Finally, he looked into the other man's eyes. "So you're working here now?" He raised an eyebrow.

Mickey could feel his heart pounding. His hands were shaking slightly. Man, what this kid did to him. "Got let go from the diner." He shrugged like it was no big deal.

"Mickey, this place is like your worst fucking nightmare come true. What are you doing here?"

Mickey ran his hand along the back of his neck and felt his face get hot. "Was Lip's idea. And it beats washing dishes, right?"

At that moment, Roger walked away with a roll of his eyes and Ian moved closer. "Mick, did you take this job so you could look out for me?"

Everything in Mickey's brain screamed for him to deny it, to tell Ian to fuck off. And he was about to do it. But something about the look on the other boy's face changed his mind. He took a breath and couldn't quite believe the words that came out of his mouth. "Yeah, something like that."

And, to Mickey's surprise, Ian looked happy. Like really fucking happy. And then Mickey was happy. But also confused. Ian's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Okay, that's cool. But you really don't need to worry. I can take care of myself."

Mickey nodded because he couldn't think of anything to say. And also because Ian was happy and he didn't want to say anything to fuck it up.

Ian looked at his watch. "Ed let me out a little early because the VIP room is empty. I'm gonna go change. Meet you out front in twenty? We can take the train together."

Mickey nodded, still unable to speak. Maybe Lip really was a genius after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked the chapter. Thanks for continuing to read. As always, I'll try to update ASAP.


	12. Old Wounds

Ian hated working the VIP room. The customers were arrogant and used to taking whatever they wanted. So it wasn't surprising that they were super aggressive with Ian.

He had always been pretty casual about sex. He was able to enjoy it on a purely mechanical level. He didn't even have to be particularly attracted to the guy. But this was different. It was touching without permission. It was these guys thinking they could put their hands wherever they wanted and Ian had no say in it. And it was about their pleasure only - no regard for making Ian feel good. Ian hated it. The feel of unwanted hands on his skin made him cringe.

He had only been on the Lithium for a few days. He had been trying to stay as sober as possible. He figured that if he had to be on medication that he didn't want to be on, he may as well not do anything to hinder its effectiveness. But on his third night of working the VIP room, he gave up.

The client introduced himself as Max but Ian was pretty sure that wasn't his real name. The guy looked to be in his forties, though Ian couldn't be sure. He was fit and strong and he immediately grabbed onto Ian's hips and pulled him on to his lap. Normally, it's Ian's job to grind down on the client with the client sitting submissively beneath him. But Max dug his fingers deep into Ian's hips, lifting him up and then pushing him down on his obvious erection.

Ian closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself anywhere else. But after a few excruciating minutes, he couldn't take anymore. He squirmed in the other man's lap, trying to get out of his grasp. "Stop, man. That fucking hurts!"

Max ignored him, moving one hand down to Ian's ass and pulling him closer. As he began kissing Ian's neck, Ian put his hand firmly on Max's chest and pushed himself away. "Get the fuck off of me!"

Max let go with a smirk. Ian got off of Max's lap. He was shaking everywhere. "Fuck you, man. I'm not a prostitute."

The other man just laughed. He looked Ian up and down. "I could swap you out for another boy but I don't want to. I'm very attracted to you. What do I have to do to make you happy?"

Ian shivered under the other man's gaze. And then he shrugged.

Max stood and pulled a little plastic bag out of his pocket. "Come here." Ian reluctantly approached. He knew this was a dumb move but he couldn't take his eyes off that little bag. When Ian was close enough, Max reached out and pulled Ian close. He pulled a pill out of the bag and put it on Ian's tongue. Ian swallowed it. Max put his hands on either side of Ian's face. "What's wrong? You don't like being dominated? You like to be the one in control?"

Again, Ian just shrugged. Max pulled his face closer. Ian thought for one horrible moment that the older man was going to kiss him but he didn't. Instead, he pushed Ian down onto his knees and shoved Ian's face against his denim covered crotch. "Come on, kid. Suck me off. Make me happy and I'll take care of you."

Ian opened the guy's pants with shaky hands as he felt his entire body relaxing as whatever pill Max had given him took effect in his body.

 

Ian was vomiting in the bathroom of the club. He had taken so much shit that night. Something clearly hadn't agreed with him. Or maybe it was the Lithium - he wasn't sure.

He exited the bathroom. Fortunately, he felt a lot more lucid after vomiting. As he was making his way to the changing room, he caught sight of Mickey a few feet away. He was standing at the bar doing shots with a few of the dancers. He was laughing at something someone had said.

For the first time since being reunited, Ian really looked at the other man. Mickey really had grown up. It wasn't just the obviously washed hair and clean clothes. Mickey now possessed a confidence he never had before. Mickey had one hand on his glass and the other resting on the bar. Then, he raised one wrist and glanced at his watch. When did he start wearing a watch?

One of the guys said something and Mickey raised an eyebrow and then began to laugh again. Ian looked at the three dancers talking to him. They were looking at Mickey like Ian used to look at him. Ian suddenly felt like he might be sick again.

He hurriedly made his way to the changing room and started pulling off his costume and putting on his jeans. What the hell was wrong with him? One minute he's blowing some asshole for cash and the next he's feeling jealous over the guy he swore to himself that he was done with. Once fully dressed, Ian caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He could barely believe who was looking back at him: just some coked out, crazy twink.

 

Ian was a little late getting out of the club because he spent extra time scrubbing the eyeliner off his face. He had brushed his teeth so aggressively that there was blood in the sink when he spit. But he still felt dirty.

When he got to the sidewalk, he found Mickey waiting for him, smoking a cigarette. "Hey." Mickey looked him up and down like he always did.

Ian nodded. "Can I borrow one of those?"

Mickey handed him the cigarette. "Rough night?"

"Nah, I'm good." They began to walk to the train. A few minutes later, they were standing on the platform when Ian became sick again. He crouched down, his back to Mickey, trying to hide himself from the other man.

But Mickey was right there. He knelt beside him, a strong hand on his lower back. "Jesus, Ian."

The nausea passed and Ian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes were watering from the physical exertion of being sick. He heard the train approaching and forced himself to stand up. His eyes met Mickey's and there was so much concern in Mickey's face that Ian had to look away.

They sat next to each other in silence for a few minutes before Ian spoke. "I'm taking medicine. Psychiatric medicine. It does some weird shit to me."

Mickey looked at him, his expression a mixture of surprise and apprehension. Then, his face took on a thoughtful expression as if he was carefully choosing his words. "What kind of weird shit?"

"Makes me shake sometimes or feel sick to my stomach. Stuff like that. Hoping its temporary."

"I thought you said you were okay?"

Ian just shrugged.

"So what, you've got that thing that Fiona and Lip think you have? The thing your mom has?"

Ian was looking at his hands, his stomach in knots. And then he turned to Mickey, whose blue eyes were searching, desperate. "Yeah, I guess."

Mickey reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of smokes. Ian quickly put his own hands over Mickey's. "Mick, you can't smoke on the train."

Mickey's eyes widened as he realized what he had been about to do. "Jesus." And then he looked down at Ian's hands over his and Ian immediately pulled his hands away. There was silence for a few minutes before Mickey spoke again. "You being bipolar, what does that mean?"

"Well, my mom is a homeless drug addict so . . . ." Ian grinned as his voice trailed off, trying to make light of things. But Mickey looked stricken. Ian turned away. He was embarrassed and wished he hadn't said anything. They spent the rest of the train ride in silence.

 

Ian and Mickey barely spoke a word to each other the rest of the evening. Immediately upon entering the house, Ian took a shower. As he stood under the water, he felt his face grow hot and red. As he lathered himself, image after shameful image ran through his mind: all the drugs he had consumed that night, Mickey's reaction to his diagnosis, Ian blowing some asshole for cash. The last one was the worst. God, if Mickey ever found out what he'd done, Ian would never be able to face him again.

Ian had blown the old guy but the other man's hands had only touched Ian through his clothing so it was irrational for Ian to be scrubbing himself the way he was but he couldn't stop. He wanted to erase the person he had been that night.

He stepped out of the shower and wrapped himself in a towel before making his way to Mandy's room. The room was pitch black but Ian's eyes quickly adjusted and he could make out the lump that was his best friend's body in the center of the bed. Moving quietly, Ian pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a tee shirt. He laid down gently beside Mandy, careful not to wake her, and stared up at the ceiling.

His heart was beating wildly in his chest and, before he knew it, tears ran down his face. He was so angry at himself. He had already fucked up all his dreams and he was still doing damage. He thought again of Mickey's face on the train. The other man had appeared so disturbed by Ian's words. Ian's hands went into tight fists and he resisted the urge to punch himself. He was overcome with regret for telling Mickey anything about his illness.

 

Ian tossed and turned for what felt like hours but probably wasn't anywhere close to it. And then suddenly, he was up out of the bed. He felt his legs moving and he knew where he was going as his brain was screaming for him to stop, that this was a terrible idea. But Ian didn't stop. Instead, he found himself standing outside Mickey's room and gently pushing the door open. He stood in the doorway for a moment looking down at Mickey. The shades hadn't been properly drawn over the window and Mickey's face was illuminated by the light from the street lamp outside. Ian stared at his profile and felt a longing deep inside him that he had been feeling for years but had been suppressing for the past several months.

Ian must not have been as quiet as he thought because Mickey started to move and was soon looking up at him sleepily. Ian froze.

"Gallagher?" Mickey was squinting at him and then sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Ian, what the fuck?"

Ian's voice was barely audible as he fought to keep it from trembling. "I can't sleep." Mickey just looked at him and Ian shivered. "Sorry."

Mickey was looking at him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He rubbed his eyes again. "No, it's fine. You okay?"

Ian's heart was beating rapidly, even more so than before. And then he was moving fast. He pushed a shocked Mickey down into the bed and climbed on top of him. "I wanna . . . can we . . ." Ian was stammering.

Mickey grabbed Ian's wrists. "Ian, what's wrong?"

"I need to fuck, Mickey. Can we do that? Please?"

Mickey looked up at him in silence for a moment and Ian couldn't breathe. His hands were shaking slightly where Mickey held his wrists and he hoped Mickey didn't notice. This was humiliating enough. Finally, Mickey nodded, releasing Ian's wrists.

Ian was breathing hard as he brought his arms down and let them rest on Mickey's shoulders. He leaned down and brought his lips to Mickey's. Ian closed his eyes and kissed hard. After a moment, he felt Mickey's tongue against his teeth. Ian was instantly hard. Suddenly, his desire for Mickey was insanely intense and he writhed over the other boy, grinding against him desperately. Mickey grabbed onto Ian's hips and pushed Ian's dick against his own. Ian moaned against Mickey's mouth and thought for one terrifying second that he might come right then. But he didn't.

Ian's movements were almost frantic. He couldn't get enough of Mickey's body fast enough. Hands entwined in Mickey's hair, Ian broke away from Mickey's mouth. He kissed his chin and his neck and then went lower, pulling the other boy's pants down with him.

And then Mickey's pants and boxers were at his knees and Ian pressed kisses to Mickey's inner thighs before nuzzling his face against Mickey's dick.

"Oh God, Ian. Fuck, I missed you."

Ian could feel Mickey's hands in his hair, caressing the sides of his face and he held back tears as he took Mickey into his mouth. He fought to keep his bottom lip from trembling as he worked Mickey over. Ian had gone down on Mickey countless times through the years and the other boy's dick felt familiar and comforting in his mouth. Ian knew exactly what Mickey liked and he did everything. Finally, Ian began caressing Mickey's balls as he took him deep and Mickey bucked up into him. "Ian, fuck, I'm not gonna last."

Ian took Mickey deeper while simultaneously reaching up and taking one of Mickey's hands in his own. Mickey came hard into Ian's mouth, both of them trembling slightly through it.

Ian felt Mickey's body go limp beneath him and he could hear the other man breathing hard. He only waited a moment before climbing up Mickey's body so that they were face to face again.

Mickey was still panting as he put a hand on Ian's shoulder. "Let me take care of you now."

Mickey put both his hands on Ian's shoulders in an attempt to switch their positions but Ian didn't move. Mickey moved his hands to Ian's hips and pushed his pants down before grasping his hips. "Get on your back. I wanna go down on you."

But Ian just stared at him. "Did you think about me?"

"What?"

"While you were gone. Did you think about me?"

Ian's eyes were wet and he wondered if Mickey could tell. The room was very dark. Ian felt embarrassed by his emotions and knew he was humiliating himself by asking the question because it showed him to be the needy bitch that he really was. But he had wanted to ask Mickey that question since the night they first saw each other after the older boy's return. Ian needed to know.

Mickey was frowning up at him. He had stopped moving. He was looking into Ian's eyes and Ian was pretty sure that there was fear there. Mickey responded softly, hesitantly. "Ian, you're the reason I came back."

They stared at each other a moment, their heavy breathing was the only sound and then suddenly, they were forced out of their moment by a rough voice.

"What the fuck?!!"

Startled, Ian turned to see a red faced and angry Iggy watching them from the doorway. Ian suddenly realized that, in his haste to get to Mickey quickly, he had thoughtlessly left the door open. Iggy was glaring at them, a look of shock and betrayal on his face.

"Mickey, what the fuck?!!"

Ian barely had a moment to register what was going on before Mickey sat up, pushing Ian off of him roughly. Ian rolled onto his back and then fell to the floor with a thud. Mickey was up on his feet, desperately pulling on his sweat pants. "What the fuck are you doing in my room?"

"I saw your door open and thought you were up. Wanted to bum a smoke." Mickey was approaching his brother who was backing away, his eyes darting between Mickey and Ian. Ian suddenly remembered that his pants were at his hips and he quickly pulled them up, feeling so humiliated that he could honestly curl up and die at that moment. "You're fucking Gallagher? Seriously, Mickey, what the fuck?!!"

"Iggy, just hold on." Mickey got close to his brother and then Iggy shoved him back with all his strength causing Mickey to stumble backwards.

"Get away from me, you fucking faggot."

Mickey froze at the word. Iggy looked down at Ian and then back at his brother. "So that's why he's here?" Mickey just looked at him so Iggy continued. "Dad would fucking kill you if he knew, Mick."

Ian looked at Mickey and saw the stricken look on his face. Even several feet away, he could see a shift in Mickey. He knew that Mickey was thinking about that awful morning that his father had walked in on them. Ian got to his feet as the two brothers stared each other down. He wanted to help diffuse the situation but he had no idea how. He stood to the side, paralyzed.

Suddenly, Mickey took a step towards his brother. His voice was low and mean and sent a chill down Ian's spine. "You breath a word about what you think you know to anyone . . ."

"And what? What are you gonna do about it?"

"I promise you that you'll regret it." 

Mickey's last words came out almost as a growl. Iggy looked at Ian one more time before responding. "This is not fucking cool with me, Mick. This is not fucking cool."

Mickey only stared back at him and Iggy backed out of the room. Ian slowly approached Mickey, reaching a tentative hand out to touch the other boy's arm. "Mick, I . . ."

But Mickey snatched his arm away roughly. "You need to pack your shit."

"What?"

Mickey was looking at the wall, the ground, anywhere but Ian's eyes. "You can't stay here anymore. You need to go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience. I hope the chapter was worth the wait! Your feedback is greatly appreciated. :)


	13. You've Just Gotta Trust Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that it took me so long to update. Thanks for your patience. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Mickey sat on the concrete steps in front of his house, a beer in one hand and a smoke in the other. The sun was just starting to come up and it was beautiful but all Mickey could think about was how he was fucked for life.

He was still in his sweats. After confronting Mickey, Iggy had run out of the house, fucking off to God knows where, leaving Mickey alone with Ian. Ian hadn't argued with Mickey when he asked him to leave, only dressed quickly. Mickey had sat on the bed, watching. Ian wouldn't look at him. After pulling on his shoes, he went to the door but paused in the doorway, facing the hallway, away from Mickey. "I'll get my stuff later. Don't want to wake Mandy." His voice sounded strangled and tight. Mickey nodded, even though the other boy wasn't looking at him, and then Ian was gone.

Mickey was startled from his thoughts by a warm mug pressed against the side of his arm. He turned to find Mandy beside him, two mugs of steaming coffee in her hands. "Hey."

Mickey put his empty beer bottle down and reached for the coffee. "Thanks. Got a pounding headache."

Mandy nodded. "The coffee will probably help more than the beer."

Mickey nodded and looked at his sister. She was still in her pajamas with a threadbare hoodie over her shoulders. Her tiny frame was swimming in the sweatshirt. Mickey knew that hoodie, had worn it himself. It was Ian's.

Mandy put her coffee down and pulled the sweatshirt tighter around herself. "Where's Ian?"

"He left."

Mandy looked surprised. "Where did he go?"

Mickey shrugged. "Home? The fuck should I know?"

"Why did he go?"

Mickey was starting to get agitated. "Because I told him to."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because Iggy walked in on us fucking around!" In his agitated state, Mickey had spoken louder than he intended and he looked around nervously but it was still early and there was no one on the street.

"So what?"

Mickey's eyebrows shot to the sky. "So what? So fucking what?!!"

Mandy put a hand on her brother's shoulder. "Mick, why did you come back?"

Mickey looked away. "You know why. For him."

"Then what are you doing? Why would you send him away just when he's starting to come back to you?"

Mickey's fists clenched, feeling defensive. "Because I don't want him hurt. I don't want to get hurt." Mickey ran a shaky hand through his hair. "Fuck, Mandy. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I know I can't be with him. We'd never be safe. I just can't seem to stay away from him."

"Because you love him."

Mickey looked at his sister. At first, he was angry and filled with denials that were just waiting to slip off his tongue. But then his face softened. He sighed heavily, looking defeated. "Maybe. But what difference does it make?"

"I loved him once too, Mick. I mean, I still do but I was in love with him once."

"And then you starting fucking Lip."

"No, then I realized that Ian would never love me back and I made the decision to accept it, to just be his friend and stop hoping for more."

Mickey stubbed out his cigarette. "And you think that's what I should do?"

"You can't keep jerking him around, Mick. You need to decide what you want. If you're sure it can't work with you guys, then you need to tell him. You need to let him go for good. Let him move on like he's been trying to do."

Mickey held onto his coffee mug with both hands, desperately absorbing the warmth.

 

The Alibi was just how Mickey liked it: far from packed but enough people that he could go unnoticed as he played pool with Sully and a few other guys from the neighborhood.

Despite this, Mickey was feeling anxious. So anxious, in fact, that he was having trouble maintaining his grip on the cue because his hands were damp.

Mickey hadn't seen Iggy since the blow up the night before and he had no idea what Iggy's current mental state was. Mickey couldn't help but look over his shoulder every minute or so, scared that his older brother might appear and come at him from behind at any moment. Mickey tried to be subtle and hoped the other guys didn't notice.

By the time it was nearing ten o'clock, Mickey had consumed more beers than he could keep track of but he was only slightly buzzed and he was finally feeling more relaxed. He figured that, if his brother was going to show, it would have happened already.

That was why it took him by total surprise when he was suddenly shoved from behind. Mickey stumbled forward, beer spilling onto the front of his shirt. The words were out of his mouth before he had even turned around. "What the fuck?!"

Mickey turned to find Ian standing before him. Red-faced and shaking slightly, Ian seemed to be vibrating with anger. Mickey was suddenly hyper-aware of the gazes of Sully and the others. He looked briefly and they were watching, amused and curious to see how this would play out. And Mickey was momentarily panicked because he had a reputation to maintain. And, honestly, if it was anyone else who had shoved him like that, Mickey would have immediately kicked his ass. But it wasn't anyone, it was Ian.

"What the fuck, Gallagher?"

Ian shook his head. "I came here because I needed to tell you something."

Mickey tried to act casual. "Yeah? What's that?"

"I needed to tell you to go fuck yourself." 

Ian was a mess. He was clearly drunk but that wasn't all. His eyes were red and wet. The emotion in his face was obvious. They had an audience. Mickey needed to shut this down before people starting figuring shit out. Mickey forced a laugh. "Well, now you told me so go the fuck home."

Mickey turned away from Ian and back to his game. As he lined up his shot, he hoped desperately that Ian would leave. And then he felt another shove. This one was harder and Mickey fell against the table causing the other guys to laugh. Sully raised an eyebrow. "You gonna let him get away with that, Mickey?"

Mickey straightened himself out and turned back to Ian. Looking into his eyes, Mickey realized that Ian was more drunk than he had first realized. Mickey got close and spoke softly but intensely. "You're shit faced, Ian. Go home."

But Ian didn't appear to have processed his words at all. "You fucked me over again, Mickey. How could you do that to me?"

"Just kick his fucking ass and come take your shot." A voice called out from behind Mickey. And there was more laughter. Mickey felt his neck and face reddening. If he wanted to save face, he needed to fuck Ian up. Mickey watched as Ian swayed slightly and realized that it wouldn't take much in Ian's current state. Probably just one punch. Mickey's fingers curled into a fist and he pulled back his arm. But then he looked at Ian's sweet fucking face and he knew that he couldn't hit him.

Mickey knew he was fucking up as he grabbed Ian's bicep and started pulling him towards the door. He could hear familiar voices calling "What the fuck, Mick?" and "The hell are you going?" But he ignored them just as he ignored Ian's protests at being manhandled. Mickey practically threw him out the door before dragging him into a nearby alley and shoving him up against a brick wall.

"What the fuck was that? Are you out of your fucking mind?!" Mickey was in Ian's face, crowding him. He was furious. He felt himself losing control and thought that he might end up hitting Ian after all.

Ian pushed him back. "You fucked me over so many times and I always went back to you like a bitch. But then I finally moved on. I had a boyfriend. I was done with you!"

"Yeah, that was some great boyfriend. Big fucking loss there."

"You told me you wanted me back and then threw me out of your house like a piece of trash!"

"Iggy was there. What did you expect me to do?!"

"Is it a game to you, Mick?"

"Is what a game?"

"Hurting me?"

Ian's face was completely open and vulnerable, no defenses remaining. And the hurt Mickey had caused him was so clear. In that instant, all the anger disappeared and was replaced by the overwhelming need to comfort Ian, to take his pain away.

Mickey reached a hand out and cupped the side of Ian's face. Ian flinched away at first but relaxed as he felt the gentleness of Mickey's touch. "Go home, Ian."

Mickey's hand slipped from Ian's face and Ian nodded, his lip trembling slightly. And then he turned and walked away. Mickey watched until Ian turned a corner and he could no longer see him.

Mickey went back into the bar where his friends were waiting for him with expectant faces. "Did you kick his ass," asked Sully.

Mickey shook his head. "Nah, he was shit faced. Didn't even know what he was saying. I sent him home."

Sully laughed. "You're going soft, Milkovich!"

As Mickey bent to take his shot, he quickly swiped his wet eyes with his sleeve. "Maybe I am."

 

Even as he stood on the front stoop knocking, a voice in Mickey's head was telling him to run. It was the same voice that had told him never to kiss Ian, that Ian was just a fuck and nothing more, not even a friend. It was the same voice that told him not to care if Ian fucked Kash or Ned or some ROTC fucker. It was the voice that comforted him when the Russian prostitute was fucking him and told him it didn't matter, that Ian didn't matter. It was the voice that told him to run afterward.

The door opened and Mickey found himself face to face with Lip. The voice continued its mantra over and over: run, run, run.

Mickey took a deep breath. "Your brother home?"

 

Ian was sitting on the couch watching a movie with his siblings. He was sandwiched snuggly between Carl and Debbie, with Liam on his lap and he looked peaceful. Mickey, who had felt alone his entire life, had always thought that it must be suffocating to have all those younger siblings to be responsible for in that crowded house. But in that moment, for the first time, Mickey imagined that it might be the opposite of suffocating. He realized that it might be freeing to be surrounded by so much love.

Ian looked up at him. It had been a couple hours since Mickey had seen him at the bar and Ian looked sobered up and calm. But more than anything, he looked surprised. "Mick?"

Mickey suddenly felt sheepish and shy in front of all of Ian's siblings. "I want to talk to you. Can I?"

Ian nodded. He stood and put Liam down where he had been sitting. He walked toward the stairs and gestured for Mickey to follow. "We can talk in my room."

As Mickey followed Ian up the stairs, he thought how strange it was that he had never been upstairs in Ian's house before. And when he followed Ian into his room and looked around, taking in the bunk beds and military posters on the walls, he felt tears spring to his eyes. How could it be that he had never seen this room before? How could he have not wanted to see the room where the person he loved grew up and slept and did his homework and laughed with his siblings? How had Mickey denied himself so much? And why had Ian waited for him?"

Mickey's eyes found their way to Ian. He was looking at him with confusion on his face. "Mick, you okay?"

"I love you."

Ian blinked. "What?"

"I love you. And I'm sorry for all the times I hurt you. I'm sorry for not having the balls to admit how I felt about you. I'm sorry for pushing you away and acting like you didn't matter to me because you did. You always did. You do."

Mickey looked to Ian for a response but Ian only stared back at him, stunned. Mickey took a step closer, taking Ian's hands in his own. "I'm sorry for leaving you. I never wanted to and if you take me back, I never will again."

Ian remained silent and Mickey grinned helplessly, his nerves getting the better of him. "Seriously, man. If you take me back, it'll have to be you who walks because I'm never leaving you again. Not ever. I don't want to be without you ever again."

Ian's eyes were wet and Mickey could feel his hands shaking inside his own. But he fought to keep his voice steady. "What about Iggy? What about your dad?"

"Fuck my dad. And fuck Iggy too if he can't accept us."

Ian looked into Mickey's eyes. "I want to trust you, Mick. I really do."

"You can."

"How do I know you won't run as soon as things get rough?"

Mickey squeezed Ian's hands. "You've just gotta trust me."

A darkness suddenly settled over Ian's features and he slowly pulled his hands out of Mickey's grasp. He jutted his chin out and gave Mickey a hard look, even as his voice trembled. "What about my illness? I saw your reaction when I told you. It's not going away, Mick. Not ever."

Mickey cupped Ian's face in his hand. Ian flinched slightly but Mickey held on. "What did I just say to you? I'm not leaving you ever again. No matter what."

"What if I get sick again?"

"I'll take care of you until you're better."

"It's not that simple."

"It is to me. We belong together."

Mickey kept his eyes trained on Ian as he waited for an answer. His palms were sweaty and he felt like he couldn't breath. Finally, Ian responded. "Okay."

Mickey raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"

Ian nodded. "Yeah. Let's try."

Mickey let out the breath he'd been holding onto with a laugh. "You serious? You're not fucking with me, right?"

Ian grinned as he shook his head. He spoke softly. "Not fucking with you."

Mickey's hand was still cupping Ian's face and he pulled him closer, kissing him gently. When he broke away from the kiss, he rested his forehead against Ian's. When he spoke, his mouth was inches from the other man's. "I love you."

Mickey slipped an arm around the other man's waist as Ian's voice sent a wave of warmth and relief through Mickey's entire body. "I love you too."

 

Mickey awoke with Ian in his arms. Everything about Ian was familiar to Mickey: his smell, his feel, the way he breathed. Mickey sighed happily and hugged Ian tighter. Ian's voice startled him.

"You awake?"

Mickey opened his eyes and blinked against the light from the street lamp that was shining on their faces. It was early, still dark out, and Ian had the blinds open and was looking out. Mickey realized that it was probably the light from the street lamp that had woken him so early. He disengaged from Ian before pushing himself up on an elbow. He looked over at Ian and wondered how long he had been awake. "You okay?"

Ian nodded. He was still on his back, gazing out the window. "Can't sleep. Thinking about things."

Mickey ran a hand under Ian's tee shirt and rubbed his belly and chest soothingly. "What kind of things?"

"The shit we've been through. All the stuff we've still got hanging over us. I just wanna be with you. There's still so much crap in the way." He turned to Mickey. "I want to do this with you but I'm fucking scared, Mick."

Mickey took his hand out of Ian's shirt and touched his face. "I don't want you to be scared. Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

Ian nodded. "I want to leave town. You and me. I want us to start a life together somewhere safe."

"Ian . . ."

"Away from your dad and brother. Away from the club and all the terrible shit I've been doing there."

Mickey frowned, wondering exactly what shit at the club Ian was referring to. But he pushed it out of his mind. There would be a time for that conversation but it wasn't at that moment. "What about your family? What about Mandy?"

"We'll still see them. We'll visit. We'll talk on the phone. I'm not saying we gotta hide or anything. I just want to get out of this city where there's so much threatening us. Mick, there's so much that could hurt us here. That has hurt us already."

"What about your treatment and your meds?"

"There are mental health clinics in every city." Ian looked at Mickey pleadingly. "Come on, Mick. You'll get your GED and a better job. I'll finish high school and then maybe I can take some community college courses while I work part-time. We'll figure it out. We can do this, Mick. I know we can."

Ian was looking at Mickey desperately. Mickey had so many reservations about Ian's plan and yet, something about it was appealing. Something about it was everything Mickey wanted. He leaned down and kissed Ian gently before pulling back just enough to speak softly. "Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it?! Leave a comment so I know you guys are still with me! We're almost at the end. :)


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